Jerusalem Syndrome - Marc Maron [43]
That’s when I realized why the Hasidim were there. They are the extreme margin of Judaism. They justify the middle. There is no middle without them. They are there to keep the arcane channels to God open through prayer and ritual round the clock. On some level, they are there for all Jews, everywhere, whether they like it or not. What if one Hasid at the Wall were to one day say, mid-daven, “You know what?” They all stop davening to hear. “Fuck it. Let’s get out of here. Lose the hats, lose the beards, cut the curls. We’re gone.” And they all walk off forever.
Once word got out, how long would it be before all Jews around the world said, “They stopped? Well, can we all stop? It would save me a thousand a year on seats.”
They need to be there. That is why Jerusalem is a living, mystical city. The Zionist State of Israel would be meaningless if it didn’t have the heart of Judaism to protect. [The heart of Judaism would be vulnerable if the Zionist State of Israel didn’t exist.] If it did crumble, Jerusalem might become the ruins of a faded mystical city.
I have no political solutions. I think the wrong negotiator might have been chosen for the peace talks. Instead of Clinton, maybe they should have used Michael Ovitz and brought in Michael Eisner and put Jerusalem under the nondenominational control of a secular corporate neo-deity like Disney. Jerusalem would then become one of the “Happiest Places on Earth.”
People could enjoy Jewishland, with its mechanical Hasidim. Then they could go to Christianland and ride the cross; then Moslemland: “Gotta take your shoes off for Moslemland. Mom, you can’t come in.” Biblical characters could wander around in period costume. “Get your slings ready, kids, here comes Goliath.” And, of course, there would be Space Mountain. All Happiest Places on Earth have a Space Mountain, even if it doesn’t fit in with the theme. There’s always room for space and all the hope that it holds.
As I stood at the Wall I realized that I was part of an ancient, mystical, and spiritual community. I have my own beliefs, but at the wall I felt that I was part of an eternal legacy. It was something other than the Internet, which might ultimately win out, as it slowly usurps the collective unconscious.
I stopped taping because I wanted to put a note in the Wall. That’s what people do if they’re not Hasidim. You write a note to God and place it in a crack of the Wall. I wrote a very general note. HELP! I waited for a reply. Nothing.
I swear the guy next to me put his business card in the Wall. So tacky. I thought, Do you have to live up to the stereotype here?
I was so overwhelmed by the Wall that I had to immediately go out and buy a tallit. The tallit is the prayer shawl that most American Jews wear twice a year, if they can find it. On some level, Jerusalem is just a very large synagogue gift shop. If you don’t have some kind of religious catharsis, you will be overwhelmed with the pressing desire to buy menorahs, mezuzahs, yarmulkes, and whatever tchotchkes are necessary to make you feel superior to your Jewish friends and family. “Oh, really? You’ve never been?”
When we left Jerusalem, I resumed taping. I knew I was close. I could feel God.
We drove through the Negev and crossed over into Jordan to visit Petra. When we crossed the border we were in the real desert. There were miles and miles of nothing but the occasional amazing rock formation and camel.
Petra is situated in the middle of the Jordanian desert. It encompasses the ruins of a very advanced ancient civilization. It was built thousands of years ago by the Nabataeans. Did you