Transformative power of Uluru sends a message to the Jewish heart

MICHAEL VISONTAY: A visit to the red centre – no matter how early or late in life - can ignite the spark that helps a child or bystander find the voice of an advocate

I WAS 17 WHEN I first visited the Western Wall in Jerusalem, on a trip to Israel with my family to see the sights, engage with the history and meet relatives who migrated there after the war. The moment I laid eyes on the Wall, standing proudly behind the large square full of people milling and praying, remains an electrifying memory.

The sparseness of the stone blocks bore witness to antiquity, the rows of black hats bowing before it conveyed something beyond a religious connection. Here was living proof of the Temple, that the Bible wasn’t just a collection of stories, that at least some of the history drummed into me during years of Sunday School in Sydney really existed.

Last week, at the age of 62, I visited Uluru in the Northern Territory for the first time. It seems way too late. Like so many Australians, I’ve chosen to take most of my major holidays overseas, seduced by the allure of foreign cultures and scenery. It was too easy to take domestic destinations for granted, knowing I could go there anytime.

But the Covid pandemic has shrunk our holiday horizons – or perhaps it has opened them up to savour with fresh eyes what is here right in our own backyard. After years of hearing friends waxing lyrical about “the red centre”, my wife and I belatedly walked around Uluru, heard stories about its significance, and likewise trekked through the nearby Kata Tjuta formation formerly known as The Olgas.

The experience should be compulsory for every school student. These two landmarks stand apart from everything else on the planet. It’s not just that Uluru and Kata Tjuta are massive, dramatic or stunningly beautiful. You can say that about untold other natural landmarks around the world – Iguazu Falls, the Grand Canyon, Mount Everest, and so on.