If you knew all that I knew, my poor Jerusalem...

My guidebook describes a phenomenon known as “Jerusalem Syndrome,” whereby visitors to the Holy City become so steeped in Biblical history that they begin to have Messianic delusions. A Canadian woman insisted she was the virgin Mary and she had to get to Bethlehem to retrieve the baby Jesus. A teenager on a school trip became overwhelmed from the stress of his obligation to save the souls of everyone he met.

Jerusalem Syndrome is sufficiently well-documented that the city has designated a small wing of its psychiatric hospital for incarcerating the afflicted. According to the guidebook, Jerusalem Syndrome generally lasts for about a week, upon which the individual “becomes very embarrassed and never wishes to speak of it again.”

In my case, so far the only symptom of Jerusalem Syndrome has been an inability to get the “Jesus Christ Superstar” soundtrack out of my head.