Jerusalem is a city literally built on its past. Every time a shovel pierces the ground, there’s a chance of uncovering history – sometimes glorious, sometimes inconvenient. From archaeological treasures to ancient tunnels to long-forgotten graves, construction projects in the capital can occasionally be a careful negotiation between development and preservation.

Of all the discoveries that can surface during excavation work, graves are among the most sensitive. When a suspected Jewish grave is found, construction doesn’t just grind to a halt — it enters a holding pattern of halachic consultation, archaeological assessment, and logistical recalibration.

Today, the go-to solution is a method known as encapsulation. Rather than disturbing the grave, it is carefully enclosed in a protective casing and respectfully relocated – often to the edge of the site. This process ensures that kavod hameit (dignity for the deceased) is upheld while allowing development to continue.

It’s a delicate dance between past and future – one that Jerusalem has slowly mastered. Gone are the days when a single grave could paralyze a project for years. Thanks to the collaboration between developers, rabbinic authorities, and the Israel Antiquities Authority, there is now a clear protocol that honors halacha (Jewish law) and enables growth.

For developers, it’s a practical path forward, avoiding major delays and costly confrontations. For city residents, it means new housing can rise without erasing history. And for religious authorities, it ensures that halacha is observed with care and precision.

One vivid example is Givat Hamatos. This new 2,600-unit neighborhood is rising in southern Jerusalem – the first large-scale residential development in decades and a critical part of the city’s housing future. But before a single crane went up, archaeologists surveyed the land and uncovered signs of ancient life: terraced farms and burial caves from the Second Temple period.

Working with the Israel Antiquities Authority, the developers creatively adjusted the plans to preserve the archaeological integrity of the site. In some areas, graves were encapsulated and moved to the perimeter. In others, roads were gently rerouted to leave ancient remains undisturbed.

Another example goes even further back in our history. A few years ago, during excavation for a new residential development in the Arnona neighborhood, archaeologists made a remarkable discovery: a sprawling administrative complex from the First Temple period. The site included  buildings and dozens of jar handles stamped with the words L’melech (“belonging to the king”) – likely used to collect and store taxes in the form of grain and oil.

Rather than freeze the project, the developers and the Israel Antiquities Authority worked together to excavate and document the site. In areas where ancient graves were found, the solution followed the now-familiar script: encapsulation and respectful relocation to the periphery. Construction continued, but not at the expense of Jerusalem’s past.

These development challenges are not new, and Jerusalem’s growth has never been straightforward. But in many ways, it’s vintage Jerusalem — where the past is never far beneath the surface, and where building the future means carefully addressing the past.

Perhaps that’s part of what makes Jerusalem real estate so meaningful. Here, a new apartment isn’t just a roof and four walls — it’s a continuation of our story thousands of years in the making.

Gedaliah Borvick is the founder of My Israel Home (www.myisraelhome.com), a real estate agency focused on helping people from abroad buy and sell homes in Israel. To sign up for his monthly market updates, contact him at gborvick@gmail.com.