Few of us remember that the Iraqi city of Mosul, a name now familiar from recent news dispatches, is in fact the ancient city of Ninevah, home of the biblical prophet Jonah. The Hebrew heritage of this place has been almost obliterated, but a Jewish chaplain with the 101st Airborne has been exploring, very carefully, and his report is intimate and moving.
A few excerpts below, but read the whole thing at The Braden Files.
As I entered light came through the half-open roof and I could just make out writing engraved on the walls. It was Hebrew. It was then that I knew I had stumbled into the ancient synagogue of the city of Mosul-Nineveh. My heart broke as I climbed over the garbage piles that filled the room where, for hundreds of years, the prayers of Jews had reached the heavens. I realized I was probably the first Jew to enter this holy place in over 50 years.Posted by Alan at August 16, 2003 02:55 PMOver three-and-a half meters of garbage filled the main sanctuary and what appeared to be the women's section. I could barely make it out because of the filth, but there was Hebrew writing on the walls.
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As I walked through the quarter I was shown the grave of the prophet Daniel, once a synagogue. I saw that many of the doorposts had an engraving of the lion of Judah on the top. I felt the presence of our people, of their daily lives as merchants, teachers, rabbis, doctors, and tailors. I felt their rush to get ready for Shabbat, felt their presence as they walked to the synagogue on Yom Kippur. I could almost hear singing in the courtyards, in the succot, as they invited in the ushpizin. I could hear the Pessah songs echoing through the narrow streets late into the night.
And the children, I could see their shadows as they raced down the alleys and around the corners, praying. I heard their voices learning the aleph beth in the yeshivot as they prepared for their bar and bat mitzvot.
But I also heard the babies crying, and I could see the young daughters of Zion clinging to their mother's skirts, asking why the bad people were killing them and making them leave their homes of thousands of years.
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There is a great history to be written here, a great opportunity to recover the lost narrative of our people, the Sephardim of Iraq. My prayer and hope is that when the gates finally open for scholars the remnants of our people will still be here for historians to recover.