Friday we visited Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Memorial and Museum. It is reportedly a more comprehensive display than the one in Washington DC. A grimly decorated gate welcomes visitors.

The museum is housed in several buildings and it is all free. 

The triangular building is the main display which gives the chronology of the buildup of anti-Semitism across Europe. The front end of the building hangs out over thin air and the end of the building opens out into the blue sky as you will see in the next picture. It’s an unusual design and visitor meander back and forth across a long middle hallway. The sad saga is effectively told through newspaper reports, cartoons, photographs, and interviews with survivors (there are 200,000 holocaust survivors living in Israel today.)

By the end of the main exhibit I was exhausted. I had read The Diary of Anne Frank and Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning. I had watched Schindler’s List and a score of other war movies. So I thought I knew the worst of it. What I hadn’t counted on was the overwhelm I experienced when I entered the several-story, round Hall of Names. A walkway takes you to the center of it and from there you are surrounded by library shelves full of books. The shelves tower above you and fall away below you. The books on the shelves are full of names of all the lives lost. The sheer weight of numbers so powerfully displayed brought the scale of the atrocity heavily onto my heart. The sadness was unbearable.

On the hopeful side were interviews with those who were first to marry and bear children after the war ended, and there was a reassuring display of those who risked their lives to save the Jewish people in their neighborhoods and countries. Germany broke its promise to Norway to leave their Jewish population untouched, but Norway was tipped off in advance and successfully sent their whole population to Sweden by boat. I think 38,000 people were saved in a single night. I’m relying on memory here and could be high or low on that number.

We didn’t have time to view the other exhibits. As you leave the museum two Bible verses hold your attention. This verse from Joel seems to have foreseen the need to keep this memory alive. I'm glad they are keeping the memory alive. We are learning that it wasn't the "horrible Nazi's" that did this. The ability to be outrageous and violent towards others is innate in all of us. There is some circumstance that can unlock the beast in each of us. And, conversely, we are all capable of letting God's love shine through. Keeping my heart towards God is the cost of my freedom. Every minute I spend studying His goodness brings me closer to that great medical aim "to do no harm." I don't want to forget how low I, as a natural man, can sink, if it will drive me to seeking His kingdom and righteousness. What a kingdom it will be when godly attitudes and attentions prevail.

A more hopeful verse from Isaiah promises restoration. There is no doubt the Jewish people have suffered deeply. The exhibit would seem a compelling argument to leave them alone and let them get on with their lives. Yet, the Palestinians also have a tale of mistreatment and anguish. The museum gift shop sells a book called I Shall Not Hate written by a Palestinian doctor who lost three daughters and a niece when an Israeli tank shelled their home on the Gaza Strip. The writer expresses his grief, but his transcendent resolve not to let hatred have him. The Quran has taught him a higher road. There are beautiful minds and hearts in all faiths. The Spirit of God makes its way through any crack it can find.

We returned to the Old Jerusalem markets for lunch (the museum closed early for Shabbat) and we took home a box of baklava in many varieties. “Yum” times three days.

Towards sundown we returned to the Western Wall to watch the Jews welcome the Sabbath. Their Sabbath does not begin until the third star is sighted. Here you see some ultra conservative Jews making their way through a tunnel towards the Western Wall. The State of Israel supports these Jews who do no paying work, only study the Torah.

The devout stream across the plaza from all directions to gather at the Wall to welcome Shabbat.

If you remember the numbers near the wall from the past few days, you will agree that on Friday nights it becomes a Sabbath mosh pit. Dancing and singing would break out briefly here and there, and suddenly we are all going home. A rather calm joy.