Is the Kotel a Jewish tourist trap?

Yesterday's article by URJ President Rabbi Eric Yoffie at jweekly.com, about recent events at the Kotel, got me thinking.

(For those who missed it, "Women of the Wall," a group of women who meet regularly to conduct services at the Kotel, ran into trouble last November when one of their group brought a Torah scroll and put on a tallit.  That ran afoul of a previously-issued High Court ruling that required the group to adhere to the regulations for behavior at the Kotel, regulations, of course, written by Orthodox Jews who are, shall we say, unsympathetic to such behavior.  You can read a contemporary account of what happened here.)

I get why some Orthodox Jews view it as a holy place.  It's the sole remnant of the Temple.  Insofar as some pray for the restoration/rebuilding of the Temple, it stands to reason that the Kotel is hugely significant.  (Why it's considered to be a synagogue for legal purposes is another matter...)  But for the rest of us Jews who do not hope and pray for the restoration of the Temple and the resumption of sacrifices...why do we make such a big deal out of it?  Yoffie writes, "Throughout the generations, the Kotel has been a source of inspiration to Jews everywhere. It is a concrete symbol of our love for Jerusalem and our common Jewish destiny. The Wall belongs to the entire Jewish people; it must be a place that unifies our people, where all Jews are welcomed and all are respected." 

Frankly, I don't buy it. 

As far as I can tell, the Kotel is a tangible symbol of what divides Jews, not unites them:  Those who long for the restoration of the Temple vs. those who don't; those who view it as a powerful religious site vs. those who view it as a powerful nationalist site.  It may be "a source of inspiration to Jews everywhere," but if the things we're being inspired to do are widely divergent, it's hard to see how it unifies us.

The first time I went to the Kotel was in High School, on Tisha B'av.  It was one of the most profoundly moving experiences of my life.  I had planned for my semester in Israel for years, hoped and dreamed it would come...and when I saw it lit up at night, thousands of Ultra-Orthodox chanting Eicha, I wept on the stones for what seemed like hours.  By the end of my six months in Israel, it still felt special.  Several years later when I returned, it felt familiar, but there was something strange about being there -- I felt as if I was supposed to feel something, and the more I thought about it, the more I didn't know what was even appropriate to feel.  And, of course, I got hit up a dozen times for money every time I went to pray. 

And then it started to feel a bit idolatrous. 

In my opinion, one of the genius things about Judaism is its distinction between real holiness and its trappings.  Jews aren't supposed to have holy places -- anywhere 10 Jews come together to pray is perfectly holy enough, thank you.  We don't need art, or things, or monuments...just Torah and people.  The Kotel, though, seems to undo all of this, as if the remnants of the retaining wall of the Second Temple could ever be imbued with any holiness beyond that brought by the people who go there...and the Orthodox certainly have no monopoly on that.

Don't get me wrong, I think people have the absolute right to feel whatever they want to feel about the Kotel.  That's none of my business.  But from where I stand, it's the ultimate Jewish tourist trap:  That place to which we're all supposed to go, supposed to feel something...supposed to put our prayers on paper and stick them between the stones where they're supposed to get to God faster.  Where we get hit up for money from every other Black Hat in Jerusalem. 

Others can have a blast there if they must, but sorry to say I think it's baloney.