Jesus’ heart swelled with compassion when he looked upon the city of Jerusalem.
We have not been in a place to receive Internet. Visiting the Galilee area, Tiberias, Capernaum, Kursi, Meggido, and the Jordan River has kept us on the move. We arrived in Jerusalem early last evening. Right now, I am using Bevi’s computer; but I will post some pictures when I can download them and figure out how to get wireless on my computer.
We are staying with Yossi and Bevi in their flat on the outskirts of Jerusalem. Wayne is with Yossi today at Revive Israel center. More about that later.
I am always inspired as I enter Jerusalem. The traditional white stones gleaming in the sunshine are the first thing you notice. Of course, the wall surrounding the Old City is something that stands out. But the most prominent sight in Jerusalem is the mix of peoples. The sea of humanity flooding the streets is overwhelming, and the need is apparent and great. I feel the press of their desperation as I mingle and interact.
Jerusalem is the confluence of three major religions. The convergence of the spiritual, the fanatical, the faithful, the weird, the spectator, and the searching are brought together in one city on any given day. There is tension and peace at once. There is hostility and joy. And there is hope and fear.
The scars of terrorism are visible upon the buildings and streets and upon the brows of the citizens of Israel. You feel it all when you come here. And you understand why David wrote, “Pray for the peace of Jerusalem.”
This is the city of God. This place needs the real peace of God that Jesus promises those who abide in Him: peace that surpasses understanding. I feel that peace in Yossi and Bevi’s home. I feel it in my heart as I walk on the streets. But I don’t feel that peace in the atmosphere of the city. It is charged with conflicting spirits and confusion.
And even as I look at this city and walk around its ancient stones and gaze at the people on the streets, I know this is not the ultimate.
There is a city that we as believers long for that is beyond this world. It is a city whose builder and maker is God. A city not of this world nor built by the hands of men. A heavenly city. Maybe it is the Holy City in another day and time, when the true peace of God reigns.
In all situations, I am constrained that I am a traveler–even in Jerusalem–the city of our God. I am a traveler with light feet and a heavy heart. I am a sojourner passing through, refusing to gather, except for the harvest, collecting the sheaves of wheat.
Those I will lay at His feet when I see His face in that city someday, whose builder and maker is God.
There are multitudes in the valley of decision in this sea of searching humanity, and today, well today, it presses on me.