Music fills the streets of Jerusalem as the annual crescendo of colliding sacred calendars begins to rise and resound down the Via Dolorosa and at Jewish Passover Seder tables throughout the city. It is a time of remembrance generating hope for the future and I am living in the middle of that crescendo. The spiritual atmosphere is charged with anticipation.

From my Via Dolorosa rooftop terrace this evening there is stillness in the streets, save for the ringing of some distant church bells. So very peaceful. Tiny twinkle lights surround my pergola with a romantic embrace as a solitary amber glow flickers from an ancient-looking oil lamp on the table, casting shadows which joyfully dance upon the pergola canopy.

Terrace time in the heart of Jerusalem’s Muslim Quarter

Springtime winds fighting for superiority have ceased their afternoon striving, and for the first time this season I can sit under the starlit sky and drink in the beauty of all that lies before me. The Golden Dome of the Rock with its decorative blue, white, and yellow tilework shimmers in the spotlights. The Mount of Olives stretches the length of my eastern view, punctuated by the newly lit Church of the Ascension spire. To the south, Al Aqsa Mosque’s grey dome and green glowing minarets appear almost bridged to the Jewish Quarter by the skeletal arm of an enormous construction crane rising up from the Western Wall Plaza.

Silence is abruptly broken as another musician in this ancient city’s musical score enters like crash cymbals. The closest of six nearby Islamic minarets takes center stage as each of the others then adds to the cacophony for a span of minutes until the tempo falls and the concert of the evening moves to the next measure. A percussion of fireworks, probably celebrating an Arab wedding in Silwan, detonates from the Kidron Valley. A melodic, yet off-schedule, cock crows in the direction of Mt. Zion.

Living in the rhythm of this Land of the Bible can be challenging, but it inspires me to reach for an instrument to contribute to both melody and harmony. Music is an important part of each of the cultures which call this place home and as I host and be hosted, it often enhances all that flows from relationship.

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A gift from Gary’s oncology doctor Nathan Cherny and family,
the Harari Door Harp makes gentle music of praise, whether
I am coming in or going out at The Place of Stories.

My invitation to those coming to visit often includes a request that they bring a story or a song to share. My collection of instruments continues to grow. From mandolin, to djembe drum, to violin, to chimes, to crash cymbal, to bongos, trumpet, piano, flutes, and tambourines—friends savor retreating to the intimate bedouin-style space called Abraham’s Tent.

This evening closes with dessert and song as everyone
chooses an instrument to contribute to the melody.

During college I really wanted a Martin guitar, but my $100 budget could only purchase their inexpensive Sigma. I taught myself and played both at camp and for youth groups. That was 47 years ago. The guitar followed me to Israel and was available for others to play at The Place of Stories until my last birthday, when I decided to get that Martin I had always wanted and begin toughening up my fingers to play again. In fact, I have a lofty goal of learning to play one song on each of the instruments. Psalm 150 encourages us to make music and, “Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.” Game on!

I tried a number of Martin guitars, but when this Macassar
was brought out, the owner’s dog came near and sat beside it.
Who could resist those eyes?

The guitar now sits on a stand just inside “Abraham’s Tent” where I am greeted by it each morning when I awaken and stop to play and sing a song of praise for God’s goodness. Many a musician has filled that same sacred space with songs that work like a healing salve on weary, wounded souls—including mine.

Genesis 4:21 lists musicians as one of the three primary professions. It isn’t until Moses has led the Israelites through the Red Sea that music is mentioned as a song of praise and victory. The Song of Moses is echoed in the Passover Haggadah (meaning “telling”), as participants rehearse God’s gifts and actions for the Israelites. Jewish homes fill with song as generations mingle and their story is recounted…from generation to generation, l’dor v’dor.

Whether in stressful times of battle or in peaceful times, music and song lift us, encourage us, call us upward to the source of inspiration. Do you have a song to sing? In what ways are you contributing to the melody? Choose an instrument and take your seat in the symphony of the ages. The Conductor’s arms are raised.

Enjoying the walk home,
Cindy