A shift has now occurred on the Mount. It is as if someone has opened the valve, and time has begun to flow once again on this holy ground.
Recently, many media outlets have been covering events on the Temple Mount—the very site where two Jewish Temples once stood in the heart of the Mount, which spans 144 dunams (approximately 35 acres). In ancient times, Jewish families would make pilgrimages to this sacred place three times a year during the festivals of Sukkot [Tabernacles], Passover, and Shavuot [Pentecost]—festivals that are central to the consciousness and identity of the Jewish people.
Since the destruction of the Second Temple about 2,000 years ago, during a politically turbulent and realistic period of history, all the Temple-based activities were transformed into spiritual practices focused on study, prayer, and symbolic acts.
Instead of physically participating in Temple rituals, Jews channeled these practices into learning, debating, and studying in the Beit Midrash (House of Study). Symbolism became a key aspect of maintaining the connection to the Temple’s traditions. For instance, women light Shabbat candles in memory of the eternal flame that once burned in the Temple’s menorah—an image now featured in the official symbol of the State of Israel. Likewise, the challot (Sabbath loaves) blessed on Shabbat symbolize the showbread that was offered in the Temple, and other rituals serve similar purposes of remembrance.
While much of Jewish life has been brought into the realm of books and prayer, a few “devotees” seek to experience holiness in a tangible and direct way. They search for this holiness on the Temple Mount, where it was last seen nearly 2,000 years ago before the destruction of the Second Temple. These individuals visit the Mount every day, throughout the year—whether in the winter rain, Jerusalem’s freezing cold, the blazing summer heat, or the transitional seasons of fall and spring. They go there to pray and to seek closeness with the Creator of the Universe, the One who spoke the world into being. They harm no one; they simply pray, speak, and seek.
Since the recent Tisha B’Av (the annual summertime fast day commemorating the destruction of the Temples), they have begun prostrating themselves on the Temple Mount with humility and awe. It’s as if they are laying themselves bare before their Creator, yearning to connect without barriers or divisions, seeking a direct, pure, and unmasked connection—an act of full submission and devotion.
I’ve often wondered about the meaning of this prostration, particularly how it differs from the more commonly recognized prostration of Muslims. What makes it unique? When I observed the dedication and intensity of those ascending the Temple Mount, I saw a form of prostration filled with longing and desire to experience something holy—something far greater than oneself. It was a yearning to grow spiritually, to fill the void, and to repair what has been broken in our world—a world that has deteriorated ever since the Temple’s destruction, according to their view.
There was something almost ecstatic about it, hypnotic—like an out-of-body experience that lies dormant within us, but has yet to be fully realized. We are trapped in a cycle where the boundaries of our five senses never break, where life repeats itself monotonously without growth or change. But here, on the Temple Mount, something breaks through those limits.
Meanwhile, the Temple Mount’s guards, the Muslim Waqf officials, stand by with wide eyes, astonished by the sight of Jewish worshipers stripping away their outer layers, spiritually exposing themselves before their Creator. I understand that since this past Tisha B’Av, something monumental has occurred—though perhaps invisible to the casual observer.
For nearly 2,000 years, since the terrible destruction of the Second Temple, time has stood still on this sacred mount. Just as I personally experienced trauma during the events in southern Israel on October 7th, a shift has now occurred on the Mount. It is as if someone has opened the valve, and time has begun to flow once again on this holy ground.
In my humble opinion, it won’t be long before we witness a profound upheaval on the Temple Mount—an outpouring of fresh, living waters, just as the prophet Ezekiel describes:
“He brought me back to the entrance of the Temple, and there I saw water flowing from beneath the threshold of the Temple” (Ezekiel 47:1).
Ofira Halevy is the author of the column “Conversations on the Temple Mount” for one of Israel's leading newspapers, Maariv (online edition). Published with the author's permission.