O Jerusalem, Jerusalem

Few cities in the world excite such passion as Jerusalem. Despite its size—until the 19th century it was a tiny city—it is an unrivalled place for both Jew and Christians; and for Muslims it is Al Quds ("The Holy"), the third "holy city" after Mecca and Medina. How should Christians view this city, which lies at the center of their faith? How helpful is it to think of it as a "holy city"?

History, both ancient and modern, reveals that all too often this idea of holiness can become distorted and in fact be an excuse for behavior and political schemes that are far from holy. Jerusalem's powerful role as a religious symbol gets abused for political ends. People wrap their own identities around the city.

The possibility of somehow enjoying a greater proximity to God becomes enticing, giving people the desire to possess this city and so to have God on their side. Think of the Crusades.

But ponder too what is going on in the Middle East today as two rival nationalities, undergirded chiefly by Jewish and Islamic faith, compete to have Jerusalem at the heart of their national identity. Can the city be shared or will it be torn apart? Will Zion prove to be the home of righteousness, the place from which "justice flows out to the nations"? Or will Jerusalem reveal, as it has done before on significant occasions, that it is no different from anywhere else—an epitome of the "world"?

If as Christians we are sensitive to God's concerns, both for the good news located in Christ and for the spread of his kingdom-rule in justice and love, we will be concerned too to think rightly about the future of Jerusalem, this city at the heart of biblical faith. And we will be keen too to get a handle on these complex issues that relate to Zionism, the Palestinian issue, and the missionary task of the church in the Middle East.

A reading of the Bible in tune with its subject matter—that is, the revelation of the living God to God's people for the sake of God's worldwide purposes of grace and mercy—will study the Hebrews scripture presentation of Jerusalem with the utmost seriousness. Here was a city, unlike others on the face of the planet, that was allowed by God to play a unique role within God's purposes. The former Jebusite city, which David made his capital more than 3,000 years ago and which then became the cornerstone uniting the tribes of Israel to the north and the south, became none other than the city of Yahweh.

The psalmist heralded it as the "city of our God, the city of the Great King" (Psalm 48). Not least this was because of its temple, which was understood as the place where Yahweh dwelt (Psalm 135:21). As the final resting place of the Ark of the Covenant (2 Samuel 15:29), the temple became the fixed abode of the God known in the wanderings of the Sinai wilderness.

Yes, such ideas needed to be stated with caution (1 Kings 8:27), but there was a profound sense in which Zion (the term used for Jerusalem especially in Isaiah and Psalms) was Yahweh's "holy hill," the place of his dwelling. Just as the dynasty of David was chosen by God, so too was Jerusalem (Psalm 2:6, 110:2). Zion was the place where Yahweh had put his "name" (1 Kings 11:36, 14:21).

We are dealing here with a mystery; God's real involvement with a city at the heart of his chosen nation. Somehow, as the Psalmist declared, "in Judah God is known" (Psalm 76:1). Zion had become a bridgehead for divine communication. If the wider world was to be drawn into the knowledge of God, it would come about through Jerusalem in some way: "The law will go out from Zion, the word of the Lord from Jerusalem" (Isaiah 2:3).

However, this "Zion-theology" could lead to problems. After the dramatic survival of the city when besieged by Sennacherib in 701 B.C.E., people wondered if, because of the divine presence and kingship, the city was perhaps inviolable. This was promptly denounced by the prophets Micah (3:12) and Jeremiah (7:1-15), who instead warned of divine judgment upon the city. Prophets denounced it for its idolatry and disregard of Yahweh (Ezekiel 8:3), and for its corrupt leaders and its oppression of the poor (Jeremiah 13:13; Micah 6:9-16). Isaiah compared Jerusalem to Sodom in 1:9, and Ezekiel to an Egyptian prostitute called Oholibah in 23:4.

The fall of the city to the Babylonians in 587 B.C.E. then fully vindicated this critique. God, so Israel came to understand, had acted in judgment against his own city. The precious gift, because abused, had been taken away. Jerusalem was clearly not immune. God's presence, God's holiness, was not a talisman, a possible smokescreen against evil, but rather a call to righteousness.

The same is true today. If people, then as now, talk of Jerusalem as a "holy city," then they need to see the consequences. For God's holiness will not share quarters with sin; human injustice does not work the righteousness of God. "Woe to you," said Micah, "who despise justice and distort all that is right, who build Jerusalem with wickedness" (Micah 3:9-10).

A New Vision After Exile
There was an increasing realization within the later Hebrew scripture writings that God's purposes towards Jerusalem were part of a larger picture whereby God would bless the world. The exiles returned from Babylon, but in many ways it was all very disappointing (Nehemiah 9:32-36), thereby fueling a hope that God would do something better (Haggai 2:9). Apocalyptic writers looked forward to a new age when the city would be a source of living water and it truly could be renamed "the Lord is there" (Isaiah 65:18-19; Joel 3:17-18). There was an increasing sense that Jerusalem had more of a symbolic role—for the people of God enjoying God's presence.

The Hebrew scripture closes with these issues unresolved. In one sense the exile was over—Jerusalem's "penalty was paid" (Isaiah 40:2)—but in another sense much of the prophetic hope clearly remained unfulfilled. Ezekiel had seen the Shekinah glory leaving the temple (Ezekiel 11:24), but was his vision of its return (43:1-5) ever fulfilled? And Isaiah had spoken of the Lord returning to Zion as king (Isaiah 52:7-10), but in what sense, if any, had this occurred? Jerusalem was thus supposedly the place of God's presence and kingship, but was this king present? No, Israel's God was not truly king. Jerusalem was not redeemed. Israel was not restored, and the exile not truly over.

All this provides a vital matrix for understanding the mission of Jesus. These were the longings and hopes of his people—especially as the period of independence during the Hasmonean dynasty came to an end and Roman domination began in 63 B.C.E. This was what Jesus' hearers longed to see resolved—the working out of the story of Israel which was inevitably bound up with that city called Jerusalem.

Luke speaks of godly Jews longing for the redemption of Jerusalem and the consolation of Israel. When would Jerusalem welcome her long-awaited king (Zechariah 9:9)? When would he visit the temple (Malachi 3:1-4) and cause God's spirit to be poured out (Joel 2:28-32)? When would they see at last the working out of God's plan for and through God's "holy city"?

THEN HE CAME. The one who would unravel the plot appeared on the stage. Not everyone recognized him. He came to his own and they did not receive him (John 1:11). He came to that city that was truly "his own," but it rejected him—it did not "know the hour of its visitation" (Luke 19:44). The New Testament tells the story about the coming of this holy man to a supposedly holy city, with devastating results and shocking consequences.

Sooner or later, this Jesus had to go up to Jerusalem. This was the place where the prophetic clock was ticking. This was the empty space waiting to be filled with the new purposes of God. Here was the location of the Divine Name, the throne of the true king, the place of true sacrifice, the center of Israel's hope. Any Messianic claimant eventually had to "set his face towards Jerusalem" (Luke 9:51).

But what would happen when he got there? And what would happen to the "holy city"? Jesus was going up as a Galilean prophet, with a word from the Lord for the domination system at the heart of the nation. He was going up to challenge the right of the temple to continue as the center of Israel's life. He was going up to the capital to make a royal claim to be the Messianic Son of David. To put it mildly, the city wouldn't be big enough for the both of them. Sparks were bound to fly. And they did. Jesus' symbolic actions were powerful. In the light of Zechariah 9:9, his entering the city on a donkey was no play-acting. This was a claim to be Zion's king—but was not Yahweh himself meant to be that king? Jesus goes into the temple, overturns its tables, announces its imminent demise, and speaks of restoring a new temple "after three days"—while pointing directly to himself. He celebrates with his followers a new Passover, pointing to his own death as the means by which a new Exodus would be accomplished and through which Israel would at last come out from exile into forgiveness and new life. And he dies outside the city's walls.

JESUS LOVED JERUSALEM. There is no doubting that. Why else did he weep as he approached the city (Luke 19:41)? He loved her people too. Why else had he "longed to gather her children under his wings" (Luke 13:34)? But he was solemnly warning the city that its hour had now come. The time was up. God's timetable was moving into a new phase in which Jerusalem's previous role would be eclipsed—by him. And not least this was because Jerusalem had herself become tainted with the sin of the world. Far from being the light to the nations, it was bent on fighting the nations to preserve its precious independence. It had become the obvious place for a true prophet to be put to death (Luke 13:33). Indeed in some ways it had become an idol in the hearts of God's people, a false mother who lured her "children" away from true worship (13:34), and who did not appreciate the arrival of a Jesus who would threaten that role. So Jesus denounced the city—"Your house will be left desolate" (13:35). If Jerusalem would not receive Jesus' embrace, it would be encircled instead by Roman armies (Luke 19:44). Prophets had predicted the fall of Babylon. Jesus now used similar language but applied it to Jerusalem. The "holy city" had had its day.

JERUSALEM IS CHANGED. The New Testament writers have all sensed the powerful drama of Jesus and Jerusalem, and they know the city can never be quite the same again. Jesus' actions, Jesus' words of warning, all point in the same direction. So too does the scandal of Israel's Messiah being crucified outside the erstwhile "holy city," the son being killed and thrown out of the vineyard (Matthew 21:39).

It's not surprising then that New Testament writings portray Jerusalem in quite a new light. Yes, this had truly been the "city of the great King" (Matthew 5:35), the Jewish "holy city" (Matthew 4:5, 27:53), but look what happened to her "great King" when at last he visited. If this was the city of God and the place of God's presence, look what happened to the "Son of God" who in his own person embodied that presence!

Paul, despite his Rabbinic training in the city, now sees Jerusalem as being "in slavery with her children" and urges converts to focus their attention instead on the "Jerusalem above" (Galatians 4:25-26). The writer of Hebrews similarly tries to wean readers away from being concerned with Jerusalem. Jesus has fulfilled and therefore outmoded the temple's sacrificial system. His death outside the city walls was also symbolic of the contrast that now exists between Jesus and Jerusalem: "Let us then go out to him outside the camp…for here we have no lasting city, but we are looking for the city to come" (Hebrews 13:13-14).

The same reappraisal of Jerusalem can be sensed both in Luke-Acts (the story of the gospel now leaving Jerusalem behind as it travels to the ends of the earth) and supremely in Revelation. There the scandal of the crucifixion has caused the city "where the Lord was crucified" to be compared to "Sodom or Egypt" (Revelation 11:8). Indeed the author seems to see the recent fall of Jerusalem in 70 C.E. as a prototype of the ultimate fall of the world-city. Meanwhile believers are to look forward instead to the descent of the New Jerusalem (Revelation 3:12).

For some these may be familiar ideas. But they are startling. The New Testament, radical document that it is, has not spared Jerusalem its considered opinion. God's new purposes in Jesus, combined with his powerful judgments, have led to the undoing of the "holy city." If Jerusalem had been truly associated with ideas of divine presence and kingship, true worship and sacrifice, these now found their ultimate fulfillment in Jesus. The time had now come when true worshippers needed neither Jerusalem nor Mount Gerizim, but could "worship in spirit and in truth" (John 4:24)—because of Jesus.

Moreover, if there had been a buildup of hope within Israel that God would restore his people, bringing them out of exile, God had done just that—but not in the expected way! Truly God had come to rescue his people, to keep the promises made to Abraham and his descendants (Luke 1:54-55, 68). The prophetic hopes had at last been fulfilled, but with an unexpected and subversive twist in the tail.

SHOULD CHRISTIANS THINK of Jerusalem as a "holy city"? Paradoxically, the coming of Jesus has normally been taken as the basis for affirming this title. After all, the event of the incarnation marks out this city as unique. As Cyril of Jerusalem (one of Jerusalem's greatest promoters) said in the fourth century, "this holy city has a natural pre-eminence." But as we have seen, the New Testament evidence can be read another way, and the lasting legacy of the Crusades must surely give us pause. Are there not great dangers in using this term too glibly?

If by "holy city" we simply mean that Jerusalem has a unique religious history and has played a central role in the events of salvation history, then the term may be apt enough. But too easily unhelpful human agendas muddy the waters when we use this term.

For example, strange notions about God's continuing divine presence in the city can subtly be reimported—even though the New Testament makes clear that this earlier state of affairs was brought decisively to an end with the coming of Christ. There is a profound sense in which "the glory has departed" (1 Samuel 4:21), and no amount of wishful thinking will cause it to return. God is now known throughout the world by the Spirit, who "blows where it wills" (John 3:8).

Then there is the powerful desire for people to possess and own this city. It is such a powerful religious symbol that few political powers in the region have ever felt able to pass it by. But most have had their fingers burned, and in recent times quite exclusionary claims have been made upon the city. Jesus himself seems to have sensed Jerusalem's capacity to become an idol, causing people to use God's city for their own purposes—and all in the name of God!

THERE IS ALSO the strange paradox that belief in the city's holiness can somehow come to legitimate unholy action. The holy end excuses unholy means. Religious conviction replaces moral sensitivity. The belief that your God has got designs on this city leads you to ignore the rights of your neighbor who sees things differently. Thinking that Jerusalem is somehow different from other cities can too easily become an excuse to avoid universally valid aspects of biblical morality. Jerusalem is not so sacred as to be exempt from these demands. How would the Old Testament prophets react today, one wonders, when their words of prediction are used to drown out their words of warning and ethical challenge!

Finally, this reading of the biblical story raises incisive questions for those who are convinced that Jerusalem still has some distinctive role to play within God's prophetic purposes. We do not want to deny the power and the providence of God. But too often the Old Testament is read without reference to the New Testament and so produces a blueprint of what the reader thinks God is now obliged to do.

But what if the New Testament, a thoroughly Jewish book, is pointing out that Jesus is the fulfillment of those prophetic hopes—that Israel has been restored in him, that the Exile is over so that the "ingathering" can begin? What if it's true that "all the promises of God find their Yes in Christ" (2 Corinthians 1:20)? What if God has already acted in fulfillment of those promises—albeit in an unexpected way? God's action in Christ has made the prophetic word more certain and has outstripped the prophets' own expectations (1 Peter 1:11). So why are some convinced that God still needs to turn the clock back and fulfill these prophecies in a lesser way, now that the greater has come?

Is Jerusalem a "holy city"? Biblical theology suggests we need to use this term with great caution. Yes—this is a special city, quite unique for Christians and dear to those of other faiths. But if this means we put it on a pedestal, or treat it differently than other cities, or think God has some special rules in operation there, we may be deluding ourselves. In Jerusalem, as elsewhere, God intends that people should "act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with their God" (Micah 6:8). If ever you find people doing that, there you will have found a "holy city."

When this article appeared, Peter Walker taught New Testament studies at Wycliffe Hall, Oxford University. His books include The Weekend that Changed the World: The Mystery of Jerusalem's Empty Tomb (Westminster/ John Knox, 2000), The Land of Promise in the Purposes of God (InterVarsity Press, 2000), and Jesus and the Holy City: New Testament Perspectives on Jerusalem (Eerdmans, 1996).