Jerusalem: Good Friday, and the first day of Passover.
Just before midnight, beneath a full moon and the shadow of the Western Wall, pigeons and crumpled prayers snuggle between cracks in bricks. I sit nearly alone in the women’s section, except for a few Jewish ladies whose covered heads rest against the wall, their eyes pinched shut. After blessing myself with the sign of the cross to conclude my own prayer, I run my hand along the cold stone, breathing in the silence that echoed through Jesus’ tomb and swept through the blood-smeared doorframes of anxious Hebrews along the Nile.
JORDAN DENARI DUFFNER 