This is a rudimentary translation of articles from my book “Touching the Sacred” While it is far from ideal, it serves a purpose given the significance of the topic and the distinctiveness of the information contained. I have chosen to publish it in its current state, with the hope that a more refined translation will be available in the future.
Part Eight: The Third Temple
After the Temple’s destruction, Judaism underwent significant changes and thrived during the era of the Mishna and Talmud. While the idea of rebuilding the Temple in Jerusalem seemed unattainable and wasn’t seriously entertained, references to the Temple persisted in Jewish prayers, rituals, and festivals. The longing for its reconstruction lingered, prompting debate over whether this longing should be passive or proactive. Should preparations, such as crafting vessels or garments, begin actively, or should Jews wait for prophesied events like the Temple’s descent from heaven as foretold in Ezekiel or the arrival of the Messiah? This question became central to Jewish theological discourse.
Certainly, a secular individual might question the purpose of rebuilding a Temple in today’s world. What significance would it hold? Would it be conceivable, for instance, for Rome to reconstruct its Temples and resume Sacrificial practices? And if not in Rome, why in Jerusalem? The era of animal Sacrifice appears to have faded from contemporary society. Having witnessed Sacrificial rituals in Temples across India and beyond, one might question the relevance of reintroducing such practices, particularly in the heart of Jerusalem. Moreover, it remains unclear how the daily slaughter of animals would serve to manifest the divine presence, the Shekinah, in modern times.
Indeed, the prophet Isaiah voiced a critique against the notion that Sacrifices alone would bring abundance and blessing to the world. He questioned the purpose behind the multitude of offerings, stating, “To what purpose is the multitude of your Sacrifices unto me? saith the Lord: I am full of the burnt offerings of rams, and the fat of fed beasts; and I delight not in the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of he goats.” (Isaiah 1:11). Instead, God desires justice, purity, righteous judgment, learning, and active efforts to improve the world. Isaiah implores, “Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes; cease to do evil; Learn to do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow.” (Isaiah 1:16-17).
Isaiah’s prophecy regarding the building of the Temple extends beyond the timeframe of the second Temple, according to commentators. It points to the construction of the third Temple, anticipated to occur in the eschatological “last days.” Isaiah foretells, “And it shall come to pass in the last days, that the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established in the top of the mountains, and shall be exalted above the hills; and all nations shall flow unto it. And many people shall go and say, come ye, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; and he will teach us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths: for out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. And he shall judge among the nations, and shall rebuke many people: and they shall beat their swords into plow shares, and their spears into pruning hooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.” (Isaiah 2:2-4).
The prophecies of Isaiah, among others, have instilled the belief that at the culmination of time, a Temple of a distinct nature will emerge. This Temple, it seems, is the focus of our prayers, rather than a reconstruction of the old one. Fundamentally, every Temple serves as a rendezvous point with the Sacred, the eternal, and the profound. Thus, humans yearn for Temples, and when they lack one, they construct magnificent and unique edifices that serve as their own Temples. However, over time, existing Temples can become part of the ordinary routine. Consequently, there remains a sense of longing for a distant place that is extraordinary and miraculous—a place akin to the Temple of Isaiah.
For two millennia, the Jewish people yearned for the return to Jerusalem, and with the establishment of the State of Israel, that dream was realized. However, today, the excitement seems to have faded. My ancestors endured a lengthy journey, spanning months, on foot to reach Jerusalem—a monumental feat for them. Yet, for me, visiting the Western Wall feels routine. It’s as if, paradoxically, we were closer to Jerusalem spiritually during our exile than we are now. I don’t refer to the physical city but rather to the spiritual essence—an ethereal Jerusalem and Temple that await in the heavenly realm, reserved for the end of days, beyond our present reality.
In the divine Temple foretold by Isaiah, harmony will prevail, turning darkness into light and enhancing the good to greater heights. Our world, rife with contrasts and conflicts, will find resolution and unity, all converging towards a singular purpose: to amplify spiritual enlightenment. Isaiah paints this picture vividly: “The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them. The cow will feed with the bear, their young will lie down together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox. The infant will play near the cobra’s den, and the young child will put its hand into the viper’s nest. They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.” (Isaiah 11:6-9).
Indeed, the ideal of peaceful coexistence between the wolf and the lamb remained elusive during the eras of both the First and Second Temples. Therefore, it becomes evident that the notion of rebuilding the Temple, particularly as envisioned by Isaiah, does not entail replicating past structures. Rather, it aims to usher in an entirely new reality—one that facilitates complete divine revelation. The sanctity experienced in the Tabernacle and the initial Temple merely hinted at the boundless potential of the future, wherein the entire world will transform into a grand Temple. All humanity will worship God willingly, motivated not by fear or the anticipation of reward, but by genuine love.
The Sacred and eternal have a way of permeating the transient and mundane aspects of our world, often manifesting in specific places and times conducive to such experiences. This phenomenon underscores the significance of Temples and Sacred sites. These locations serve as conduits for divine connection. Even in our modern era, we continue to encounter moments of profound spiritual significance in certain places that evoke a sense of the Sacred.
Certain Religious individuals advocate for rebuilding the temple to its original specifications. However, it’s crucial to acknowledge that historically, constructing the Temple in Jerusalem didn’t always lead to the anticipated redemption. There’s no assurance that repeating this endeavor would yield different results. While some Religious believers assert that God would ensure its success, divine intentions are often enigmatic. Consider the Jews’ 2,000-year exile—few foresaw such a prolonged dispersion. Similarly, the establishment of a Jewish state after this extended period was unforeseen.
In my view, the construction of the Temple should follow a profound inner transformation within humanity. Each individual must cultivate their own spiritual sanctuary within before any external Temple can be erected. Only when a new era emerges, marked by divine presence permeating every corner, will the time for physical construction arrive. At that juncture, the specifics—such as the Temple wall’s precise length or its exact location—will become secondary considerations compared to the collective spiritual awakening.
From my understanding, the new Temple must encompass unique features that evoke a sense of the Sacred within individuals. These features may include its orientation, focal point, distinctive characteristics, and other elements explored in my academic research. Unlike its predecessors, the new Temple should integrate alternative knowledge that has resurfaced in our time, such as the impact of materials, colors, and spatial design. Guided by contemporary understandings of the Sacred and mystical experiences, this Temple will serve as a spiritual tool for humanity—a space of energetic influences rather than a mere dwelling for an enigmatic deity.
The new Temple or Temples must be situated in a unique location on Earth and incorporate ecological principles, the emerging science of earth energies, and an understanding of the interconnectedness between humanity, the planet, and the cosmos. One crucial aspect for humanity’s continued existence is reestablishing our connection and responsibility to the Earth, and the Temples must play a role in this endeavor. Whether or not Sacred sites possess earth energies or serve as gateways to alternate realities, they embody an archetype embedded in our subconscious that demands acknowledgment and exploration. When a new spiritual ethos befitting our era emerges in the holy land, it will unveil novel Temple designs that surpass our current imagination.
The prophet Isaiah foresaw the Temple in Jerusalem as a universal sanctuary, destined to be part of a new heaven and a new earth: “for mine house shall be called an house of prayer for all people.” (Isaiah 56:7). Today, we witness the realization of this prophecy as Jerusalem serves as a beacon of prayer for people of all faiths. Christians, Muslims, and Jews from across the globe turn their gaze towards it, representing more than half of the world’s population. Unbeknownst to many, Isaiah’s prophecy has been fulfilled, with the invisible hand of history (which some may attribute to God) making Jerusalem a house of prayer for all nations. The entire city has become a grand Temple, reminiscent of the future Temple envisioned by Ezekiel, where the surrounding city itself is also deemed Sacred. While Jerusalem stands in grandeur, often it is the last to recognize its own magnificence, akin to the golden fish unaware of its existence in water.
Instead of embracing the remarkable state of Jerusalem, many around the world remain preoccupied with visions of conflict and past grievances. Instead of honoring one another and upholding the covenant between divinity and humanity, rooted in love for all creation, we find ourselves suspicious, defensive, and prone to aggression. Rather than witnessing wolves and sheep living in harmony, we observe discord among wolves and aimless herds of sheep roaming without purpose. In such a state, the construction of a new Temple becomes an unattainable goal, and any attempt to force its creation will only hinder progress, purity, sanctity, and unity.
Constructing a new Temple on the Temple Mount is not a mandate from the Torah. The beliefs surrounding the foundation rock as the starting point of Creation are relatively recent and veer towards paganism, from my perspective. Originally, the Tabernacle served as a mobile structure, and the Temple’s location was determined by David’s decision. However, we also possess agency, and I strongly advocate for the free will of humanity. Therefore, any rebuilding of the Temple should not infringe upon or harm others in any way.
Some argue that David was guided by the Holy Spirit, and as part of our people and tradition, it is our duty to follow in the footsteps of our ancestors. They believe that the land was promised to the Jewish people through a divine covenant with God, and by fulfilling the mitzvah of building the Temple, all will be orchestrated and synchronized miraculously. These individuals insist that the Temple must be reconstructed at its original site, even at the expense of demolishing the Dome of the Rock, which holds sacred significance for over a billion and a half people worldwide.
However, It’s crucial to grasp that even if these extremist religious factions somehow succeed in constructing a physical temple resembling its predecessor in Jerusalem, its very essence would be profoundly altered amidst the chaos and activity of a modern city. The Shekinah cannot dwell within a structure amidst the hustle and bustle of urban life; the noise of sirens and electromagnetic signals would swiftly repel her.
For me, blind faith lacks the depth and richness of true belief, which is an experience of connection to something greater, harmonious, and profound. True belief acknowledges the presence of purpose and providence in the world, embracing all existence with love. Even after the land was promised to Abraham in the Covenant of the Pieces, his actions demonstrated a trust in divine providence. He formed alliances with the Canaanite King of Gerar and did not seek to expel or harm the Canaanite people residing in the land, leaving the fulfillment of the promise in the hands of God.
The construction of a new Temple symbolizes the call for a new consciousness among humanity—a transformation of thought and behavior. This shift heralds the emergence of an innate spiritual faculty within us, guiding our path forward. With this awakening, the potential for connection to prophetic insight is unlocked, allowing the Shekinah to dwell within human hearts.
The eras of Solomon, David, King Herod, and the Hasmoneans belong to the past. While we can honor their traditions and draw inspiration from them, we must acknowledge that those times have passed. In today’s world, both Jews and all of humanity face new challenges presented by technological, digital, and communication revolutions. These shifts compel us to revisit fundamental truths, echoing the essence of the revelation at Mount Sinai: the true Temple resides within each individual. It is within the human heart that the Shekinah finds its permanent abode, and thus, the Temple we are called to build is an inner sanctuary.
The Western Wall as a new type of Temple
In Judaism, there are numerous names for God, one of which is “the place” (Hamakom). This appellation reflects the monotheistic concept of God, who transcends physical form and earthly limitations, existing within everything and beyond time and space. In theory, there might have been opposition to the sanctification of earthly places in Judaism. However, reality presents a different picture, starting with the sanctification of the Land of Israel and the Temple during biblical times, continuing with the veneration of holy graves in the Middle Ages, and culminating in the significance of the Western Wall today. The phenomenon of sanctifying places has persisted throughout Jewish history, with the Western Wall serving as its focal point in contemporary times.
The Western Wall has witnessed a surge in popularity in recent years, emerging as a prominent symbol of the Temple in Jerusalem. In comparative religious studies, there are classifications of sacred places that closely align with the features of the Western Wall plaza constructed after the Six-Day War: the clearance of adjacent houses and the establishment of a spacious plaza before it resulted in the creation of an expansive open area distinct from its surroundings. With the Wall serving as a central focal point—a sort of world axis—the plaza embodies the characteristics of a sacred space. Additionally, security measures at the entrance contribute to the delineation between the sacred and the secular, thereby revitalizing the presence of a Jewish sacred site reminiscent of the Temple.
The mystique surrounding the Western Wall plaza is further heightened by the presence of tunnels and underground spaces in its vicinity. In conversations with individuals from the Jewish Quarter, I’ve heard tales of secret passages leading from these tunnels to the rumored hiding place of the Ark of the Covenant. Whether these accounts hold any truth is immaterial; what matters is the belief in them. The Western Wall is revered as the closest accessible point to the Foundation Rock, believed to be the site from which the world was created. As such, the sanctity associated with the Temple, along with traditions surrounding the Creation of the world and the Ark of the Covenant, has largely been imbued into the Wall.
Various traditions and legends have become associated with the Western Wall, such as the belief that “Shekhina never moved from the western wall of the Temple.” However, many of these traditions are anachronistic, and the sanctification of the Wall occurred relatively late, gaining prominence after the Crusades in the 13th and 14th centuries. Its significance deepened further in the 20th century, especially alongside the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
During the Ottoman period starting in the 16th century, the Wall became a site of prayer, where Jews lamented the destruction of the Temple, offering tears and supplications. This led to its moniker, “The Wailing Wall.” The custom of placing notes with requests and prayers between the stones of the Wall also emerged during this time. Today, the Western Wall serves as a political, religious, and national symbol, inspiring people on religious, cultural, and spiritual levels. It symbolizes the return of the Jewish people to Jerusalem after two millennia of exile, the mourning over the destruction of the Temple, and the hope for its reconstruction and the restoration of the Kingdom of Israel.
Researchers Gurevitch and Aran argue that Judaism does not inherently associate holiness with physical places because God transcends physical space. In their view, Judaism separates place from holiness, lacking the interconnectedness of heaven, earth, and the underworld found in other religious symbolism. They depict the Jewish journey as one where the individual wanders the world with a book or scroll, rather than being rooted in the ground. Contrary to centralization, the concept of divinity in Judaism is decentralized, with God perceived as existing beyond physical location, often manifesting in an ethereal manner such as a voice or cloud. Thus, the Jewish approach emphasizes distancing from physical places in favor of embracing abstract concepts.
Gurevitch and Aran assert that Judaism rejects the concept of an axis mundi, a central Sacred place believed to connect heaven and earth, and instead emphasizes a Religious center that serves as a focal point for desire, effort, and significance but does not inherently possess holiness. While physical places facilitate human connections—anthropology—the creation of cosmology is attributed primarily to the book. Judaism exhibits a dual emphasis on both the book and the land, resulting in a dialectic between cosmology and anthropology. Neither element alone is adequate to establish a central axis in the traditional sense—one that sustains and recreates the world moment by moment. This is evidenced by the fact that although God’s presence is revealed on Mount Sinai, the mountain itself is not venerated as a Pilgrimage site. Instead, the holiness associated with Mount Sinai is conveyed to the Temple through the Ark of the Covenant and the Tablets.
They also argue that the Pilgrimage to Jerusalem lacked rites of passage associated with it being perceived as the axis of the world—there was no catharsis, no liminality. Jerusalem is notably absent from the Torah; instead, it instructs: “Build me a house in a place that I choose.” Israel is identified as the chosen people, and they select the Land of Israel, initially devoid of inherent holiness, through a historical act of choice. Over time, anachronistic traditions of holiness developed, linking Jerusalem to the creation of the world, akin to traditions associated with other ancient Temples.
The perspectives they offer stem from Jewish thought that developed during exile, a period when there was no Temple and Jews were not residing in Jerusalem. However, with the contemporary Jewish presence in the city and proximity to the Temple Mount, perceptions of Sacred places are rapidly evolving, particularly among the general populace not deeply entrenched in Jewish theology. Jerusalem’s holiness is frequently cited with reference to its physical location. Movements such as the “Temple Institute” garner significant followings, and people embark on Pilgrimages to the Western Wall, experiencing a sense of sanctity there. For many, a visit to the Western Wall encapsulates their Jewish and Israeli identity. The prominence of book culture is yielding to practices such as visiting graves of the righteous, placing notes in the Western Wall, and using amulets. It’s likely that similar sentiments existed when the Temple stood in Jerusalem.
The newfound sanctity of the Western Wall is evident in the revival of ancient Temple traditions by Messianic groups. According to tradition, King David would rise before midnight to pray, recognizing the heightened influence of dark forces during those hours. As midnight heralds a symbolic rebirth of the world, the Religious individual seeks spiritual renewal, aligning their rhythm with the divine. By awakening before midnight to pray, they aim to evade the influence of Sitra Achra, or satanic forces.
The destruction of the Temple is viewed as an act of Sitra Achara, prompting the necessity of rebuilding it through actions like the midnight tikkun performed at the Western Wall today. Following the liberation of the Old City in the Six Day War, a tradition of midnight tikkun at the Western Wall emerged, spearheaded by Rabbi Getz, the Rabbi of the Western Wall and a prominent kabbalist associated with the Beit El kabbalist yeshiva. Today, his disciples continue this practice, engaging in worship deeply connected to the site. Through prayers infused with intention, letters, alignments, and bodily movements, reminiscent of practical Kabbalah, they evoke echoes of the Temple Priests’ work. However, rather than progressing toward a future of rediscovering the Temple and inner connection to God, it seems we’ve regressed two thousand years.
According to Eliade, a Temple serves as a locus for the continuous re-creation of the world and the universe. It resolves the distance between the self and the world by encompassing them within a unified whole, where harmony prevails. Acting as an axis of totality, the Temple bridges the mundane plane of existence with the eternal, divine, and Sacred. Eliade utilizes the Temple in Jerusalem to reinforce his argument regarding the function of the axis mundi and to elucidate the terminology he introduced concerning the manifestation of the Sacred. He posits that the divine presence is unveiled through a Hierophany, which is embodied in Cartophany, the manifestation of power. While other interpretations of the Temple may exist, Eliade’s theoretical framework and characterization of the Temple as a site for communion with the Sacred resonate as a phenomenological approach.
My argument is that contemporary Judaism experiences a resurgence in the phenomenology of connecting with the Sacred through physical spaces, exemplified by the visitation of the Western Wall. The architectural layout of the Western Wall Square plays a crucial role in facilitating this connection. The expansive and distinctively designed plaza, centered around the impressive and formidable wall constructed with colossal stones, contributes to its aura of sanctity. Furthermore, the division of the plaza into distinct sections, with proximity to the wall resembling a Synagogue, enhances its spiritual ambiance. These elements, among others, endow the Western Wall plaza with the requisite attributes of Holiness, rendering it a Sacred place in contemporary Judaism. In this sense, the Western Wall embodies a modern phenomenology of Sacred space reminiscent of its biblical counterpart, the Temple in Jerusalem.
A significant aspect of the Western Wall’s impact on its visitors lies in the towering height of the wall and the immense size of its stones, imbuing it with a sense of power and grandeur. This extraordinary feature is characteristic of Sacred places, serving to transcend the mundane and usher individuals into the realm of the Sacred and eternal. Moreover, the sloping terrain leading up to the wall positions the visitor in front of a distinct spatial orientation, one that diverges from the typical horizontal plane and ascends vertically. This shift in perspective fosters a turning towards spirituality, as individuals are confronted with a different axis of existence. The convergence of diverse intermediaries and vectors within this space fosters a union of opposites within oneself, further accentuating the wall Sacred nature.
The wall itself marks a transition in dimensions, not only due to its historical significance as the remains of the temple and the site of Ezra’s teaching, but also because it signifies the beginning of another medium. At the end of the extension stands a wall that serves as a repository for tears and notes of supplication. This embodies the miraculous notion of “stones with a human heart.” The Western Wall functions as a conduit through which people’s prayers are heard and received, much like the Temple did. In a sense, the spiritual “Mana” (life force) of the Temple has been transferred to the Western Wall.
In the phenomenology of the Western Wall, one can discern additional characteristics of the Sacred. According to the researcher Kunin, the concept of sanctity in Judaism embodies a nested structure, akin to a thing within a thing within a thing. The Mishnah (Kelim 1, verses 6-9) outlines ten degrees of Holiness in the land of Israel, from its borders to the Holy of Holies. This hierarchical concept finds resonance in the structure of Jerusalem today: one must first reach the city, then enter the Old City, proceed to the Western Wall Plaza—a confined space—and finally approach the Western Wall itself. Each step contributes to the sense of sanctity. Kunin suggests that we are witnessing the emergence of a new phenomenology of Holiness in Israel, a development he attributes to the ascendance of Jewish nationalism and its contrast with other nations. This dynamic is epitomized by the juxtaposition of the Western Wall and the Dome of the Rock.
I concur with Kunin’s initial observation concerning the layout of the Old City today and the positioning of the Western Wall within it. However, I diverge from his second observation regarding the perceived contrast between the Western Wall and the Dome of the Rock, as well as the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, all of which form integral parts of the Sacred complex of the Old City. This divergence arises from a fundamental misunderstanding of the human mystical experience and the sensation of Holiness within individuals. It is important to address this misconception as it underlies many prevalent misconceptions about Holiness and Sacred places worldwide.
The most fundamental experience of Holiness is one of inclusivity and love, where individuals are absorbed into something greater than themselves that encompasses all of Creation. In this context, there is no distinction between the Western Wall and any other wall surrounding it; they all serve as manifestations of divinity. Within the mystical experience, individuals relinquish their sense of self and identity, transcending considerations of lineage or education. Everything converges into unity, rendering distinctions between Muslim, Christian, or Jewish identities irrelevant. Consequently, there exists no differentiation between the Western Wall, the Dome of the Rock, or the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
An individual experiencing Religious transcendence within the Western Wall plaza, prompted by the inherent Sacredness of the site, would appreciate the gleaming splendor of the Dome of the Rock alongside the distinctiveness of the Western Wall. Kunin’s notion of Holiness, rooted in patriotism and possessiveness, constitutes a misconception, conflating concepts and obscuring the true essence of the Sacred as elucidated in comparative Religious studies.
I apologize in advance to anyone who may perceive my words as heretical. Even fundamentalists, whether they are Jews, Muslims, or Christians, are part of Creation and were created in the image of God. However, this does not compel us to agree with them or accept their emotional zeal as indicative of Holiness. Conversely, I have encountered many Christians who have shared their Religious experiences while visiting the Western Wall. Similarly, I have met Religious Jews who have recounted their Religious experiences while visiting Temples in India or the magnificent Gothic cathedrals in Europe. Such encounters serve as reminders that the Sacred can manifest itself in diverse places and through various traditions, transcending narrow sectarian boundaries.
According to my understanding, the Western Wall should be regarded as a “Sacred” place for all peoples, and this includes all streams of Judaism, even secular ones, as it is part of the shared spiritual heritage of humanity. The Jewish tradition has imparted to the world the moral consciousness of monotheism, epitomized by the Ten Commandments inscribed on the Tablets of the Covenant, which formed the essence of the Temple in Jerusalem. Moreover, Judaism has contributed the concept of active morality through the teachings of the prophets, advocating for justice and advocating for the vulnerable in society. Both Christianity and Islam have emerged from Judaism and have adopted its principles of active morality, as well as the concept of humanity being created in the image of God.
The prophets of Judaism envisioned a world where Jerusalem would serve as a house of prayer for all nations, and this prophecy has come to fruition. Therefore, the Western Wall, symbolizing the Temple, should be a Sacred space for everyone, while still retaining its Jewish character. It is important to recognize that the Sacredness lies not in the stones themselves, but in the individuals who come to visit them. One who sanctifies the stones but neglects to honor their parents, speaks ill of their neighbor, or engages in deceit, violence, or theft, desecrates the Temple and dishonors its memory. If we distill the entire Torah into a single directive, it is “love your neighbor as yourself.” In the 21st century, our “neighbor” encompasses all of humanity.
A house of prayer for all nations
Today, Jerusalem stands as a united city in physical terms, but if we acknowledge the reality, it is divided in terms of hearts and the spiritual realm, among different religions, denominations, and even among Jews themselves. This division contrasts with earlier times. As a young boy, I recall a more harmonious atmosphere in Jerusalem following the Six Day War, a unity that began to fracture with the onset of the intifada and the deepening of the Palestinian struggle for independence. However, amidst this division, there are still many individuals who harbor the vision of Jerusalem as a “house of prayer for all peoples,” a place of dialogue, interfaith and intercultural exchange—a sort of new Temple for our times.
A century ago marked a time in Jerusalem’s history when boundless potential seemed within reach. Ronald Storrs, the inaugural British governor of Jerusalem, established the Pro Jerusalem Society during this era, envisioning the entirety of the Old City as a sanctuary for humanity. In his words: “Jerusalem should be one complex consecrated to world culture, on which the authorities have an obligation to preserve and emphasize its historical and aesthetic values.”
Storrs, influenced by the ethos of the British Orders of St. Michael and St. George, naturally envisioned, upon assuming his role as governor of Jerusalem, the establishment of a round table akin to King Arthur’s knights, where esteemed individuals from all walks of life would convene as equals. In a remarkable turn of events, this vision materialized. At the former St. Paul’s German hostel near the Nablus gate, a grand round table was installed, around which members of the newly formed society gathered weekly. This assembly served as an urban and aesthetic council, supporting the military governor. With pride, Storrs recounts: “For the first time in the history of the city, members of various religions, denominations, and communities of Jerusalem united in a collective endeavor to preserve the city’s historical and religious treasures, joining hands to shape the image of the sacred city.”
He writes thus: “Behind the establishment of the ‘Pro Jerusalem Society’ is a sublime idea. The Sacred City needs unity more than anything. It asks for a round table around which people of all races and religions will gather, forget for a moment themselves and their petty quarrels and think only of the Sacred City and its meaning for all humanity”.
And also: “For hundreds of years, the greatest interests of the three largest religions in the world intersected in Jerusalem. At different times, out from Jerusalem came the sound of a heavenly organ that excited the world and governed it. I dare not prophesy because the East is a university where the student never receives a diploma, but I do dare to believe that what happened in the past will happen again, and that if we succeed in justly fulfilling the task assigned to us by the will of the peoples, and if we can settle or unite the leaders and believers of the three great religions. It is possible that for the good of the peoples, the voice of Zion will once again be heard.”
The Pro Jerusalem Society, active from 1918 to 1922, made significant contributions to the city’s development, particularly in urban planning. Employing city planners McLean and Ashby, they proposed the creation of a garden encircling the ancient walls, accentuating the Sacred basin. They envisioned new buildings and neighborhoods aligned around this basin, paying homage to its significance. Thus, an urban Temple took shape, with the old city at its core housing the most Sacred sites for three religions. Travelers circumventing the Old City walls today benefit from this urban design. Regrettably, the society’s vision has faded into a distant dream.
My friend Yitzchak Hayut Man was one of those mystics and visionaries uniquely born of Jerusalem’s essence, despite his Tel Aviv origins. He deeply sensed the city’s spiritual uniqueness and its potential for human development. Yitzchak passionately believed that Jerusalem should be a house of prayer for all people. As a cyberneticist, he proposed two unconventional methods to embody this vision.
Yitzchak held the Dome of the Rock in high regard, viewing it as a pinnacle of Sacred architecture, born from the collaboration of learned minds across religions during the early years of Islamic rule (8th century) in Jerusalem. He believed it to be an eternal symbol of spiritual ideals, deserving of preservation and respect. Yitzchak adamantly opposed any notion of its damage, alteration, or destruction for the sake of building the Temple. He emphasized the potential harm such actions would inflict upon the beliefs of over a billion followers and the dire consequences that could ensue.
Conversely, Yitzchak possessed profound insights into the Sacred architectural principles of the Temple, offering interpretations unlike any other. Seeking to bridge the Temple and the Dome of the Rock, which he viewed as complementary rather than opposing, he proposed a novel approach. In his unique manner, Yitzchak suggested projecting a holographic image of the Third Temple, as envisioned by Ezekiel, above the Dome of the Rock. He envisioned utilizing technical means, such as balloons, to realize this symbolic connection in the sky.
Yitzchak proposed the creation of a virtual temple suspended high in the sky, visible to all who visit the city. Furthermore, he suggested employing computer animation to tailor the experience for each observer based on their cultural and religious background. For Jews, the hologram would resemble the Temple from Ezekiel’s vision descending from above. Christians would see Jerusalem as envisioned in John’s vision, while Muslims would perceive the hologram akin to the black stone from Mecca converging with the white stone in Jerusalem during the end of days.
Yitzchak believed that such an ambitious endeavor could foster a cycle of positive engagement in Jerusalem, promoting dialogue and a recognition of reality’s multifaceted nature, wherein different layers harmoniously coexist. The hologram, he argued, would facilitate greater acceptance of others and reignite Jerusalem as a guiding light for human culture.
Sadly, Yitzchak passed away at a young age and did not witness the realization of his vision. It’s difficult to imagine that even if he had lived to be 120, he would have seen it come to fruition. However, his visionary ideas offer a refreshing perspective, reinstating hope and a universal outlook on history and religion in Jerusalem. Yitzchak was among those who envisioned the Holiest city becoming a hub for intercultural and interreligious dialogue, embodying the ideal of “a house of prayer for all peoples.”
Another visionary emblematic of Jerusalem is my dear friend, the artist Arik Palzig, who resides on Mount Zion. Like many others inspired by the city’s essence, Arik believes fervently in Jerusalem’s universality and its potential to serve as a sanctuary for all peoples. His dwelling, a unique and spacious house with a large courtyard near David’s tomb, stands out amidst the ancient cityscape. Arik envisions transforming his residence into a spiritual center for humanity, to be named All Men’s Land. Situated in what was once a no man’s land between Israel and Jordan before the Six-Day War, Arik’s dream is to convert this zone of division into a space that belongs to all humankind.
According to his vision, an underground passage equipped with escalators will transport people to Mount Zion, providing access to the Western Wall and the Temple Mount complex. At a designated structure, visitors will encounter a spiraling descent into the underground, where the history of Jerusalem from antiquity to the present day will unfold. Above ground, a communal area and gallery space will be situated, crowned by a towering edifice resembling a harp with an eye motif atop, reminiscent of the “Eye of Sauron” from “The Lord of the Rings,” albeit representing benevolence. This structure, dubbed the “Eye of Zion,” will offer an elevator ride to its summit, affording panoramic views of the ancient city. Symbolically, the eye represents humanity’s aspiration for spiritual elevation, while the spiral serves as a tether to our shared past and collective human legacy. Adjacent to the tower, colossal harps will play music with the winds, heralding new horizons for humanity.
Unbeknownst to Arik, his vision evokes a world axis bridging the celestial, terrestrial, and subterranean realms, while also spanning the continuum from past to future. With hope, Arik’s inspired concept, the “Eye of Zion,” will manifest in due time. Both Yitzhak Hayut Man and Arik Palzig endeavored, each in their distinctive manner, to construct a novel form of Temple for all humankind, underscoring the enduring presence of the Temple archetype within us, resonating even in contemporary times. What distinguishes their visions is the Temple’s universal dedication to humanity, integrating modern elements within its framework.
It’s doubtful that the construction of a modern Temple, as envisioned by my friends, will alone restore Jerusalem’s holiness. Achieving this would require the collaboration of representatives from all three religions, akin to the ‘Pro Jerusalem Society’. Yet, given the current climate of entrenched religious identities, such cooperation seems unattainable. Hence, a secular framework with a universal perspective, akin to Governor Storrs’ vision, is essential for catalyzing change. This book aims to foster the spiritual essence of the Temple within a universal context, aligned with humanity’s collective quest for meaning.
Embracing this perspective opens the door to envisioning the creation of structures—temples—that can evoke the experience of the Sacred within individuals, fostering a new era of harmony and peace, both in Jerusalem and beyond. Just as Isaiah’s vision for the Third Temple requires a new heaven and earth, today’s imperative includes a novel universal Religious paradigm that venerates humanity and allows for diverse and personal expressions of spirituality.
This isn’t merely a philosophical concept; it’s a fresh understanding of our connections with the environment, others, and ourselves, emerging within humanity at this juncture. In the 21st century, we’re witnessing transformative shifts unseen since the dawn of time. This newfound consciousness will demand the creation of a different sort of Temple, as humans yearn for the Sacred and seek a conduit to the divine. However, this cannot be imposed; it must blossom within individuals autonomously. I trust that the book on the Temple, alongside my other works, will contribute to this cause.
Summary of the Book Touching the Sacred
At the core of human experience lies the innate longing to return home. Religious interpretations attribute this sentiment to our expulsion from the Garden of Eden, while mystical interpretations trace it back to our existence as spiritual beings prior to inhabiting physical bodies. Yet, amid the busyness of daily life, we often lose touch with this feeling, becoming consumed by the demands of the physical realm and forgetting our true essence. The essence of spiritual life lies in the journey back to the Sacred, a process of reconnection with the divine aspect within ourselves. In ancient times, this quest found expression and fulfillment through Pilgrimage to the Temple and participation in its rites. The Temple served as a sanctuary for purification, joy, learning, inspiration, and spiritual elevation—an avenue for connecting with the Sacred and the higher parts within oneself, ultimately forging a connection with the divine.
The book “Touching the Sacred” commences with an exploration of Temples in the ancient world, progresses to the revelation at Mount Sinai and the construction of the Tabernacle, delves into the architectural intricacies of the Temple in Jerusalem and its mysteries, recounts the eras of the First and Second Temples, and culminates with a perspective that views the ancient city of Jerusalem as a Temple in its entirety. It concludes with a vision for the future—a vision of a new Temple, one built upon the foundation of human brotherhood in the world’s most sacred city.
In my view, attempting to rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem and revive ancient worship practices is not suitable for the contemporary world. Apart from the potential for perpetuating conflict and causing significant loss of life, the destruction of the Temple was a divine act, and its reconstruction should be left to divine will. As evidenced in the Book of Ezekiel, if it is meant to be, God will bring forth a new Temple in due time. Rushing towards redemption may lead us astray, as illustrated by the cautionary tale of Rabbi Yosef Della Reina in Safed during the 16th century. Similarly, contemporary radical Messianic movements advocating for the Temple’s reconstruction risk succumbing to misguided zeal, exemplifying the proverbial notion that good intentions can pave the road to perdition.
We must avoid embracing a simplistic perspective that sees the construction of the Temple as an immediate solution. However, this does not mean we should abandon our efforts to comprehend the significance of Temples, as the concept holds fundamental importance for humanity. In this book, I strive to present a universal, spiritual, and secular interpretation of the Tabernacle and the Temple, recognizing them as integral aspects of our shared human heritage. While I acknowledge my Jewish background, I believe it should be leveraged to contribute to our collective human endeavor: the cultivation of a new consciousness. This aspiration aligns with the aspirations of various religious traditions throughout history. It’s evident to those who discern that we are amidst a new era, marked by industrial, communication, and digital revolutions, uniting the world as one global community.
The Temple served as a conduit to other dimensions of time and space, imbued with purpose and moral significance. It instilled belief in personal providence and the underlying causation of the universe. Humans revered the Temple because it facilitated a connection to the innermost essence of humanity—beyond the confines of time and place, eternal and Sacred. Its universality was underscored by its location atop the foundation rock, believed to be the genesis of creation itself. Within the Temple, the diversity of life forms symbolized the intricacies of the world—animate and inanimate, growing and living. It stood not only as a reflection of the world, as described by Eliade’s concept of Imago Mundi, but also as a beacon of hope for the redemption and evolution of the physical realm—a harbinger of transformative change that lies ahead for humanity.
The era of the great Temples has passed, giving way to diverse methods of connecting with the Sacred and avenues for progress, development, and future transformation. In today’s world, the search for the Temple transcends external structures; it necessitates introspection and discovery within ourselves. The environmental challenges of our time render the construction of traditional Temples unfeasible, yet the teachings and principles of the Temple remain relevant. One such lesson is the importance of preparing the outer framework, crafting vessels, and performing appropriate rituals before the Divine Presence, the Shekinah, can reside within us. Each individual must construct their own personal Temple, utilizing the materials available to them—products of their life experiences thus far. The presence of the Shekinah within is not a passive occurrence but the outcome of diligent effort, a receptive mindset, and spiritual labor. Sometimes, external assistance or guidance akin to the aid provided by figures like Hiram, King of Tyre, or Hiram Abiff, may be beneficial in acquiring the necessary insights and materials for this sacred endeavor.
“Touching the Sacred” serves as a metaphorical cedar wood beam, providing foundational support for the construction of one’s inner Temple. Through this book, I aim to amalgamate knowledge about the Temple from Jewish sources, particularly mystical ones, with insights gleaned from the study of Sacred architecture and other ancient Temples worldwide. By incorporating diverse perspectives on the Temple from comparative Religious studies, I endeavor to offer a universal understanding of the Sacred.
In my view, the significance of this book lies in its ability to introduce secular readers to the narratives surrounding the temple and Tabernacle, as well as the esoteric knowledge associated with them. By delving into the architectural history, offering mystical and symbolic interpretations, and presenting insights from Jewish (particularly Kabbalistic) and other sources, the book aims to provide a secular spiritual perspective on these sacred structures. Essentially, it endeavors to extract the spiritual essence of Kabbalistic teachings on the Temple from their national-Jewish context and merge them with a universal approach.
For this reason, and for other understandable motives, I would be immensely pleased if Muslims, Christians, pagans, and atheists alike read this book and gleaned something valuable from it for their lives. Whether it’s historical insights or a sense of the Sacred, my hope is that readers recognize the existence of a Sacred realm and its presence within each individual. Through careful reading, one may discern my deep-seated belief in the collective called humanity, and in the shared human quest for meaning across the ages, to which every nation, culture, and era has contributed. While the Jewish people have made significant and meaningful contributions to this collective heritage, it is important to recognize that these contributions belong not solely to us, but to the entire world.
