One of the most striking features of the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, especially when one visits late at night or early in the morning when it is quiet - is the presence of the pigeons, doves and sparrows - flying above, making the ancient stones their homes. There are also swifts - migrating birds that are there at some seasons.
Some of my early childhood memories are from the excitement of this pilgrimage - we’d drive for an hour or so, and then walk to the wall by foot through the old city, finally feeling the huge stones as if touching history, and looking up towards the rustle of the birds. Sometimes we’d wipe off their debris that is considered good luck.
Whoever wrote Psalm 84 appreciated the pilgrimage to the Temple of Jerusalem, with its impressive structure and the pilgrim’s relief and joy of coming home.
All that is left of that old temple today is this Wailing Wall - and poems like this one, in which the yearning and the longing last far longer than the physical structure and what it stood for.
Tomorrow is the new moon of Av, the month in which we lament the loss and destruction of the temple and the exile that followed.
In the midst of this ongoing brutal war in this holy land, the ancient longing for the sacred safety meets the stark reality of survival and sorrow, yet again at the time we’ve dedicated for weeping and wailing for pains past and present. What we yearn for is not just the sense of homecoming but safekeeping for all who call this land their home.
Who were the pilgrim poets who wrote this psalm?
It is ascribed to the Sons of Korach - this is one of the final ones in the series of poems attributed to this musical family of Levites who served the royal court of the first temple.
And it’s also the last psalm with direct attribution to those court musicians who may have actually seen the old temple in its glory - and also lived to see its terrible demise, lamenting the absence of its presence.
The psalms ascribed to the houses of Asaph and Korach are a mix of lament for the temple’s loss - and also gratitude for its place in people’s hearts - even as it no longer served as a possible pilgrimage site.
This psalm echoes both the longing for the home - and the appreciation for being at home no matter where one is. It is perhaps the ultimate mixed message of the exiles, the dream of the diaspora, yearning to be back again in safety, at one’s national, religious, beloved home. But also aware of the distance, the reality of rupture.
That’s where the birds, mysteriously, show up as a symbol of longing that would last beyond the building:
נִכְסְפָ֬ה וְגַם־כָּֽלְתָ֨ה ׀ נַפְשִׁי֮ לְחַצְר֢וֹת יְ֫הֹוָ֥ה לִבִּ֥י וּבְשָׂרִ֑י יְ֝רַנְּנ֗וּ אֶ֣ל אֵֽל־חָֽי׃ גַּם־צִפּ֨וֹר מָ֪צְאָה בַ֡יִת וּדְר֤וֹר ׀ קֵ֥ן לָהּ֮ אֲשֶׁר־שָׁ֢תָה אֶפְרֹ֫חֶ֥יהָ אֶֽת־מִ֭זְבְּחוֹתֶיךָ יְהֹוָ֣ה צְבָא֑וֹת מַ֝לְכִּ֗י וֵאלֹהָֽי׃
אַ֭שְׁרֵי יוֹשְׁבֵ֣י בֵיתֶ֑ךָ ע֝֗וֹד יְֽהַלְל֥וּךָ סֶּֽלָה׃
I long, I yearn for the courts of the Eternal,
my body and soul sing to the living God.
Even the sparrow has found a home,
and the swallow a nest for herself
in which to set her young,
near Your altar, O GOD of Hosts,
my sovereign, my source.
Happy are those who dwell in Your house;
they forever praise You. Selah.
Ps. 84:3-5
What is the symbolic role of the swallow here? Why are the birds so central to this image of the longing for the sacred safety of the divine home?
There are allusions here to the dove of Noah -- circling to find a landing place post flood. And it’s perhaps as simple as the memory from my own childhood: There were birds already in this sacred site, using the temple walls as their nesting spots. The poets looked at the birds nesting by the altar, nature doing its thing while humans destroy.
The birds that migrate find their way, again and again, to where they create new life.
For how many generations of pilgrims to Jerusalem did this image of the birds, free to fly and flee and find safety resonate as deeply as their deepest pains and highest hopes?
The longing - body and soul - to be embodied in the sacred home, as snug inside the nest, as safe as the swallow - leads to the next verse, which found its way into every single prayer book, recited at least once daily:
Ashrei. How happy are those who get to dwell inside the holy home, whether that’s the ancient temple, the modern synagogue , or one’s own body — we pilgrims who sometimes get to set foot across the longed for threshold of the sacred.
I read this poetry today, and know that just like my ancestors and whoever these poets were - we keep yearning for the simple safety of homes where we can live in peace, for sanctuaries where none will harm or disturb us.
Like migrating birds we direct our hearts and bodies to where we know we are welcome, and where we will live. We want those far away from home - taken hostage, uprooted, exiled, lost — to come home, to have a home, to nest in peace.
Whether these safe havens will be in Jerusalem or anywhere in the world -- we long to nest, we wish to rest, and we believe that every one of us upon this planet, every bit of holy land, every human, every bird, deserves the dignity and destiny of home, and nest and how to find, like Noah’s dove, a dry piece of land, and a tree that means life, and a little ray of hope.
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