Jesus' Footsteps

Welcome to My Blog

2007-04-30T12:45:00.000-07:00

I kept this blog during a month-long journey through Israel, on my own. Since then I've added background information on the Gospels and spiritual reflections to the travelogue. There are also a few posts on Peter and his life.

The Sea of Galilee, allegedly from the hill where Jesus fed 5,000.

Note: I've moved a lot of this blog to www.emilyjamison-diggingdeeper.blogspot.com.

You're welcome to use the pictures on this blog for personal or church use providing you give credit to www.emilyjamison.com.

Hope you enjoy this blog!

--Emily Jamison

Bethsaida

2007-04-12T12:21:00.000-07:00

Closed! I was so upset. If only I'd gotten to the pier an hour earlier, maybe I would have made it to Bethsaida on time. If only this, if only that. There was a gorgeous skyline so I left the car door open, dropped the keys on the ground and dashed across the highway to photograph it - you have to chase pretty skylines around here - and turned around to see two tour buses disappear into the site.

Turned out the gate's always down, unlike every other site - you just pay there. $12.50. What?!!! Capernaum was 75 cents.

The guy took pity on me when I hesitated before reaching for money. 'Go in, if you like it, come back and pay,' and handed me some brochures. I pulled over, decided I'd be a fool to be stingy and went back to pay. 'No, no, you pay later. The park never closes. Stay as long as you want.'

Well, okay. I don't really care when I pay, actually. $12.50 is still $12.50 two hours from now. So I went clambering on rocks again, staring at signs that say 'Residence,' 'Courtyard,' etc. and wondering how on earth they could tell the difference. I could photograph the one saying 'Kitchen,' put it in the book as 'Residence,' and no one would ever know the difference. (But of course I wouldn't do that.)

(Actually I know they decipher it by what archeological remains are inside the room. So, in the kitchen they must've found pots, etc. But that doesn't make the stone walls look any different in the kitchen than they do in the residence. )

After a couple hours it started raining so I headed 'home' to pack and blog. The man at the entry gate was very perturbed. "Why are you leaving so soon?" (So soon???) "Because it's raining." (A good reason, I thought, to not be climbing over rocks under the open sky.)

"You don't have to pay. It's okay. Go on through. I live around here. Come back any time you want, let me know if you need anything."

Huh? I was pretty confused, but took advantage of Israeli hospitality before he could change his mind.

My social day indeed, I got into two more lengthy conversations, one of which nearly got me into men-trouble. You'd think my Temple adventure would have taught me caution, but I'm a bit slow on the uptake.

Anyhow. I wound up fine and headed off to the airport the following morning, which is a different blog. So I'll sign off, hope someone out there enjoyed this!

I also sailed on the Galilee today.

Sailing on the Galilee

2007-04-12T12:19:00.000-07:00

I sailed on the Galilee! At long last. Awhile back I was sitting on the beach Jesus grilled fish at during a post-resurrection appearance to the disciples. A Nigerian group there was splashing water from the Galilee on their faces; one of them asked me if I had touched it. Holy water...I was so startled! Sacred water had never occurred to me. After they left I splashed Galilean seawater on my face too, but my heart missed out on the miracle of it.

I was sitting on the old rock pier yesterday, hoping to find a tour group I could tag along with, when a worker asked what I was doing. 'Oh, we're going in 15 minutes, circling and coming back to the same place. You can come with us for free.' Perfect! So I talked to his daughter for a bit, she's 22, really sweet.

I waited a couple hours but the group never showed. After showing her my pictures, seeing hers and talking about Israeli religion and politics, I started freaking about not getting more writing done the day before I left.

It was my social day. I'm sitting on the rocks writing when a nice Irish guy walks up and says hi, asks me what I'm doing or something, I forget. Turns out it's the same thing he's doing - and he's talked to the manager and done all the leg work. Lucky me! So an hour, soda and chocolate bar later I set sail.

It was an American group, they were really sweet. I was kind of anti-social, it was my last day and I wanted to scribble everything possible and everything impossible. Finally I finished scrawling and moved on to meditation: Jesus calming these waters, treading upon these waves. I struggled hard, but it was futile until I realized Jesus must have spent a lot of daily grind time in boats that sailed this sea. He laughed, grew tired, cried and hugged on boats like this.

I wonder how much comfort He took from these shores? Did He lose Himelf in their beauty when rejection cut Him to the core? Did He sit by them at night, listening to waves lapping, praying for strength to get through the day?

My revelation was interrupted mid-sentence, and I chatted with this sweet lady from Michigan until we got back, whereupon I dashed to the Bethsaida ruins. I'd been itching to get their all day - a fisherman's house preserved!

I also saw the ruins of Bethsaida today.

Daily Life in Capernaum

2007-04-11T22:57:00.000-07:00

I saw an old harbor today, for the third time. I have read so many books and seen so many pictures that many things don't strike deep, but these walls and anchorages that speak of the daily grind keep making an impression on my heart.

Show me the un-amazing! Daily life. The grit that made the clock go 'round. I like to see where Jesus hauled sails, mended nets and bought rope. I like to realize that he probably did mend nets, not because he was a fisherman but because he was a friend. I like that he probably did sit on the ground sorting out unclean fish, listening to friends snap yet not lecturing.

I clambered around the rocks some and stumbled on the ruins of the old fish shop. Its pools of slimy, slithering fish are long gone, but I pondered it as I sat on the old seawall. Nearby was the same gorgeous array of blossoming bushes they saw- pale lavender, raspberry, an elegant cream and bright pink. I watched it get stormy as they did, saw the sky darkening as storm clouds blew in from the north.

Peter's house was a short walk away, and it's easy to picture him, Jesus and Andrew crossing the dirt road lining the coast, stopping by the rock-walled fish shop to get some bait and wading out to the sailboat rocking in the harbor. Perhaps the two brothers were complaining about the chilly water, the lack of fish or James and John.

Capernaum strikes deep because of what happened here. Because of shivering winter nights wrapped in blankets and gorgeous spring afternoons fishing, because of hot summer nights on the roof and the first tinge of fall. Because of children making mischief in the courtyard, women grinding grain for dinner and men coming in from a long night fishing. Because of joking, crying, grumbling and loving. Because of the ordinary stuff of life. Jesus' life.

Peter's House

2007-04-10T23:07:00.000-07:00

I saw the ruins of Peter and Andrew's alleged house today, in Capernaum, but its early conversion to a church renders it impossible to picture it two thousand years ago. It was larger than most of the houses pictured directly below, but had the same basic structure - one or more courtyards surrounded by individual rooms.

All of the houses in Capernaum were built of the depressing black basalt in the picture (bleached grey by the sun, apparently). Most families in Capernaum lived in one room, which bordered a courtyard used by multiple families. Just behind the wall is the Sea of Galilee, and the stumpy hills in the background are on the far side of it.

This octagonal structure is the remnants of Peter's house, from the fifth century. It was converted to a house church hundreds of years earlier, then remodeled. The structure blocking it is a modern-day Franciscan church forbidden to tourists.

The house dubbed 'Peter's' had two courtyards, lucky for them. There were several bedrooms, one of which was probably used by him, his wife and any children they had (all in one bed, most likely). Another room would have been for Andrew and his family, and perhaps the others for cousins.

It's hard to get a good photograph, since the Franciscans had some odd compulsion to build a church in the air over the venerated site. This floor gives an idea of the woman searching for her lost coin - a bit more difficult than hardwood or carpeting. The walls probably had oil lamps propped on a ledge.

Expanded Version of This Article
Was Peter Poor?

Jesus' Tomb

2007-04-09T23:45:00.000-07:00

Excavated Houses Oh, well. So I dashed, minus my time for writing (God help me if I ever lose my digital recorder). All this dashing was a bit frustrating because I tried to see all three sites the day before, but all Christian sites were closed because it was Sunday and all Jewish sites were closed because it was a major day of Passover week (this was Sunday, the last day of it was Monday).

Took me awhile, but finally I found my next destination, which I've been wanting to see the whole time I was here. This was my third try. Closed! Was I ever disappointed. It's a bunch of houses they've excavated from Christ's time that were occupied by the very wealthy and, quite possibly, the pseudo-high priest Annas. (You know when it says in Luke "when Caiaphas and Annas were high priests"? Actually the high priest position could only ever be occupied by one person, but Annas had so much power that it was effectively him and son-in-law Caiaphas running the show. Actually 5 of Annas' sons were high priest. The high priesthood at that time was bought and sold, and essentially controlled by 4 families. etc etc. Anyway.)

So one of these houses had an extra-lot of mikveh - ritual baths - making scholars think that maybe it was the high priests house. There are actually six houses, I just wanted a little glimpse, anything would have helped, even just ten minutes (and twenty photographs!), but - closed! ah,well. I'll just have to come back! ;)

Jesus' Tomb
So, desperate search for a taxi, who promises to put the meter on and doesn't, sucks to be him, he gypped himself 5 shekels instead of ripping me off. I even protested in the middle of the ride. He didn't have a clue where he was going anyway.

Finally I said just drop me off here, I'll walk! A couple minutes, I found it, 15 minutes, I'm out and racing for my hotel. It was one of my favorite sites though and I wish I had time to spend there. The Garden Tomb, where Christ was allegedly buried and most definitely not buried. It was found by this British guy, Gordon, who determined that you could see the shape of a skull (think Golgotha, the 'place of the skull') in the city from there. The Protestants got all excited because it was their one claim on a Holy-Land place - this was in the late 1800s - but later research proved that that type of tomb was last used in the 700s BC or something, I forget exactly.

Anyway, it was in such a nice pretty garden, with benches to sit and meditate (rather out-of-place to meditate on the tomb yesterday anyway, as it was Easter Day!) I could have meditated on the Resurrection there anyway though. It was just such a lovely spot. The tomb was as tomb-like as the other tomb I saw and the prison-cave I was in, not much difficulty writing that one regardless of whether I was there.

Homeward Bound
Well, then I dashed, flew, ran back to my hotel, in whatever miscellaneous location it might be in. Close by, I knew, and there were no taxis around. Half an hour later, I made it back, and was ready 15 minutes early! Now how about that?! I thought that was pretty good.

The day got worse from there, a shuttle to the airport to rent a car, then a trot around the airport with a cart that only goes left, waiting for elevators that don't work, signs going all the wrong ways (you can't get from one half of the second floor to the other without going down to the first floor. There the elevators are broken so you take the escalator back up, which then tells you the rent a car is on the third floor (odd), it is actually on the Ground floor, once I get to it the guy tells me to go find the office (there is one back in the building). I told him tell me where, becaause I've had it, and was trying hard not to just lose it entirely. He took my suitcase and personally walked me the 100 yards there.

Gracious. What a messy day. Finally I got in the car, and spent two hours trying to get out of where I was without crossing those dumb wicked terrifying Judean mountains. (All the Israelis find it mildly amusing that I am so scared of them.) After lots of circles I headed backwards entirely, then went north and cut across the very pretty and flat Jezreel Valley. (thing Megiddo, battleland. Zillions of battles have taken place near Megiddo over the millenia, because of the geography, and Revelations actually says that the last battle will take place at Har Mageddon - 'Mountain of Megiddo.' Everything in Israel lays claim to something biblical, and this place lays claim to Armageddon. )

Well finally I made it to my hotel, this room is about 50 degrees and the heat doesn't work and the room stinks like it hasn't been aired out in seventeen years. The computer is disastrous and doesn't tell me how much time I have left, so I might just end mid-sentence. Oh, well. Today I am off to see Peter and Andrew's house, then back to the hotel to write and transcribe yesterday and today's stuff.

Got to run! ciao!

I also saw the Temple today.

The Temple

2007-04-09T23:28:00.000-07:00

The Temple was central to the Jewish religion; all of the sacrifices were offered there, and Scripture mandated that Jewish men attend festivals at the Temple three times a year. During Passion Week, as they were leaving the Temple, one of the disciples said to Jesus:

"Look, Teacher! What massive stones! What magnificent buildings!"

"Do you see all these great buildings?" replied Jesus. "Not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down."

(Mark 13:1-2)

The Dome of the Rock, an ancient Islamic shrine that is one of the holiest sites in Islam, stands where the Temple sanctuary stood in Christ's time. Scholars believe the foundation stone of that Temple is inside of it.

Which "buildings" he was referring to is unknown, but it included the Temple sanctuary. The prophesy was fulfilled in 70 A.D., after a long siege by the Romans. Sometimes people think that this prophecy wasn't fulfilled since the western wall, or Wailing Wall, of the the Temple still exists; however, it was the buildings Jesus referred to, and indeed they are gone - every last stone. Nothing is left.

One of the original streets that ran outside of the Temple is preserved, and you can see the massive stones, exactly where they tumbled to the ground two thousand years ago.

These boulders, on an excavated Herodion street, are probably right where they fell when the Romans torched it almost 2,000 years ago. I sat in one of those indentations on the left, which were probably kiosks in Jesus' time. The women probably bought spices to anoint Jesus' dead body in a shop like this, albeit larger.

The Temple Mount itself surprised me. I expected it to be this vast open space, but it's covered with mosques, curbed walkways and young trees. There's nothing old aboout it. I was so disappointed. This is a standard walkway on it, complete with lampposts and garbage cans.

Not a great picture, but the closest I have to what I was expecting - and what it was like in Jesus' day, I believe. Picture Christ's Temple where the Dome of the Rock is, and take out the buildings.

Travelogue
This guy walked up to me asking me if I wanted a tour - I said how much? (you learn quickly in Israel that costs are hidden. Payment is expected but the expectation is never stated.)

"Oh, little money, not much."

Oh. Well, what do you know about? Do you know about what it was like 2,000 years ago, or just the other centuries?

"Oh no, I know lots about what it looked like in Herod's time."

Great. Little money, none upfront, lots of information. Turned out he worked there, which was a plus - usually it's any old person offering you a tour.

Well, I shouldn't have believed him. He dodged every question about Herod's time, giving me all the information I never wanted about the sixth century (Mormon takeover) and the Byzantine period. "Here. I show you something." He takes me up a flight of stairs into some building - there are lots of buildings on the Temple Mount - turns around and locks the door. We are in his apartment.

oh dear God. Bells ring in my head. But I prayed and got more peace about it than I usually get about anything, so I figured it was okay. It was kind of cool, actually. He had renovated this apartment, scraped off the wall and discovered an old 1st millenia (my memory's not so good. 3rd entury? 8th century? It's all the same to me.) mosaic on the wall. There were ancient arches/dome in there, and an old ornate (inaccurate world) indentation in the wall fitted for a statue or something. Who knows what it was. It had this 'garden room' or something that was - never mind skylights - completely open. Gorgeous since there was a gorgeous blue sky overhead (and the omnipresent clouds on the horizon).

In his apartment - can you imagine having this in your house?!

He asked me if I had a boyfriend or was married ("yes") and gave me a five-minute lecture on how I shouldn't have believed him the first time he said "I love you," etc. etc. etc. because men only mean that on the second or third time they say it, blah blah blah.

OK, can we change the subject? I'm getting desperate and praying hard. Still getting peace. Good! 'cause I'm getting a little freaked out anyway. He knew I was scared and I was like "Well, yeah, I don't know you." He offered me a mug of Turkish coffee - did I know how outstanding Turkish coffee was? You must sample it."

Well by that time a) I was ready to run; and b) I had to run. I had two more sites to see and had to be back by 11:00. It was now 9:30.

I thought he would never let me out of the darn place. Finally I escaped. "Money."

"Oh, right, money. What, 15 shekels okay?" (This is generous, as the tour at the Temple excavations cost me 10.)

"Oh, no. We give 100 shekels for this kind of thing." Tough. I gave him 20 and told him if he wanted 100, he should have said so in the first place. And walked away.

He tried to give me directions to where I wanted to go, but I was afraid he was mad at me and steering me completely wrong, and besides I wanted 5 minutes to write away from him. I never did get my 5 minutes, but I did get what appeared to be a circular tour of the Temple Mount, rushing the whole time, only to wind up where I started.

Finally I escaped.

No Sunrise Resurrection Service

2007-04-08T06:29:00.000-07:00

If the Way of the Cross had been a disappointment (see yesterday's post for Friday), my sunrise service at the Garden Tomb, where Christ was allegedly buried, would redeem it. So I checked what time to arrive (5:00 a.m. for a 6:30 service), made sure I could get a taxi at 4:30 and went to sleep, reminding myself not to expect so much this time.

Pitter patter patter pitter - my sun-rise service was a rain-fall service. My last great spiritual experience, rained out. Sigh. Dejected look. Pout. But oh well, what can you do? It probably would have been a crowded mess of people singing and chanting in a language I can't read or understand anyway, and besides I got to sleep more than two hours.*

I figured I'd hold on to the rest of my plan - the Temple Mount and an archaeological museum I'd spent a couple hours searching for another day, only to stumble on the Wailing Wall instead. I was thrilled to stumble on that actually, I posted that separately somewhere. Unfortunately the taxi driver said the Temple Mount was closed for Pesach, Passover. (I'm not sure why since the Moslems are in charge of the Temple Mount. Isn't that sad? It's the holiest place in Judaism.) Okay, fine, maybe I could see it tomorrow. I would get my archaeological museum. And this time, I would find it. I had four hours.

10 minutes later I found it, and no surprise, it was closed. I stared at the chained door pathetically, then sat on a stone wall and watched the Passover celebration going on in the square. If you haven't figured out from reading Friday's post, I can be kinda stubborn, and I was determined to get something out of the day, so I sat there writing about it - who knows, maybe some day it will help me write about the wedding party at Cana or something. It was kinda fun actually, but I do wish I'd gotten to see the other stuff, especially the Temple Mount and the Garden Tomb. I spent months researching the Temple, and it would have been really cool, but oh well.

3 plans and 3 down the drain, but what can you do? That's traveling for you. I think I saw another place Christ was buried while I drank Coke #2 in a tomb Friday, so I'll just use that. I doubt He was buried in an alleyway, but I'll find a garden somewhere or something. Actually no one was buried in the Garden Tomb for centuries on either side of Christ's death, so it's irrelevant. More likely He was buried in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, where there is a long line to see a gold-encrusted tomb. I ditched that entirely.

Finally I got a taxi back to the hotel - I've getting some nerve. I yelled at some taxi drivers for not setting the meter. One told me to get out, but I was halfway out the door anyway. They rip you off like crazy, usually offering you an off-the-meter price that's about double the meter price. When I pitched a fit at his offer of 40 shekels he went down to 30 - I got mine for 14.30 on the meter. I must be figuring some things out around here, because I estimated it would be 17. Pretty good, if I do say so myself.

So finally I made it back to the hotel and started typing this. Darned if I won't get something done today!

*Post-script from after I got home - It wasn't rained out, apparently 1400 people attended the sunrise service, which was "amazing." Perhaps I missed my great spiritual experience, but I doubt it. I imagine it would have been hard to hear a thing with 1400 people around, and sitting around waiting for an hour and a half would have annoyed me. I am kinda bummed that I missed it though. Another year!

Jesus' Prison

2007-04-07T11:40:00.000-07:00

After visiting the room where the Last Supper was held, I sat there deciding whether to give up, slumped my way down the hill, and poof! There right in front of me was St. Peter in Gallicantu, which I planned to see today but was rapidly un-planning due to exhaustion. yeee-hah, no effort! I slumped my way down the hill (you know it's bad when you're slumping your way downhill). And stood for awhile staring into space, with a couple tour bus drivers beginning to think me nutty (that's after the police and the army people at the top of the hill thought I was nutty. Must be an accurate representation. ;)

Jesus' Prison
Finally I expended my remaining energy and slumped down the rest of the hill, to the cave-prison Caiaphas may have held Jesus in, as well as where Peter and John were jailed. Funny, I'd always pictured the angel rescuing Peter from a cell with clanging metal doors and junky cots, like you see in movies.

It wasn't difficult to imagine cruelty happening here. The cat o'nine tails, men thrown against walls streaked with blood, slipping in puddles of it on uneven stone. It made me realize the agony they endured, and how little I endure for Christ. And what I'm called to, should I be called to it.

A close-up of the wall. The ledge in the upper right may have held a dim lamp, fueled by olive oil. Jerusalem can get pretty cold during the winter, and evenings in early spring are definitely chilly. With stone walls thoroughly chilled by months of winter, Jesus must have been shivering in here. Perhaps he sat on that stone step, praying to his Father, wanting to call on the legion of angels in heaven to rescue him, but loving us enough not to.

After many tour groups and much contemplation I went to their shop to get lunch. I was so exhausted, the guy took pity on me and gave me 25% off the Coke, and the candy bar for free! Maybe I should look exhausted more often.

The Field of Blood
Just outside of here is Akeldama, the Field of Blood where Judas allegedly hung himself. It overlooks the Kidron Valley, and if he had fallen he could have rolled quite far down this somewhat rocky hill, depending on which tree he picked and which direction the wind was blowing. Across the Valley is Gethsemane, where he betrayed Jesus.

Some of them are like willow trees hanging down to reach the ground. There are yellow ones, but they are too thin to hang yourself on.

Aaaagh!
My next stop was a walk through the Holyland Hotel model of Jerusalem in Jesus’ day. It includes a model of the Temple, which I was hoping to see before going to the Temple grounds tomorrow. Unfortunately they moved it to the Israel Museum, which doesn't sell tickets on the Sabbath.

You can visit. You just can't buy a ticket? They're week-long tickets. I guess it's not against the Sabbath to have someone in the office checking tickets and letting you in and whatnot, but it is against the Sabbath to ring up a new ticket? I dunno. This Sabbath thing confuses me. OK, got to run. ciao! me

I also saw the Upper Room today. You might also be interested in my posts on the Grove of Gethsemane and the Cave of Gethsemane

The Last Supper

2007-04-07T11:21:00.000-07:00

I slept in today! 11 hours! (one for each hour of misery yesterday apparently.) I usually wake up so early, oh my goodness but the break was good. Then I got frustrated because I couldn't figure out the most efficient thing to do, but not super-frustrated. That's because yesterday defined frustration, so it really didn't compare. This Sabbath thing here drives me crazy. Everything's closed on Saturdays, all the Jewish sites. On Sunday all the Christian sites are closed. Hey - at least they don't fall on the same day. It did make planning take until noon then (well, I did sleep until 9.)

The Upper Room
I went to the Upper Room this morning, where Jesus and the disciples allegedly ate the Last Supper - the final meal of his life. The next day he was crucified. It's doubtful, though possible, that's it's the correct location for that meal, although it is likely that it is the room he appeared to the disciples in after his resurrection.

This 'large upper room,' is small enough that it's very difficult to get a good picture of, but this series should give you an idea.

The disciples would have entered this door.

This would have been their first view. You can get a good idea of the size of the room from this - as I recall, I was practically out of the door, trying to photograph the broadest possible view of the room.

The far wall, from where they stood. To orient yourself, you can see the cleft in the wall, presumably for a statue, in the picture above this one. Imagine a large, three-sided table set back from this. Glasses of wine, festive food, dirty plates, dessert, and a lot of sadness.

The wall opposite the one above. The table was probably between them, perhaps a bit closer to the window in the far corner (see above), to get the last rays of light. A buffet table may have lined this wall.

I sat on stone steps inside (picture #2), watching tour group after tour group file in, listen to someone yabber, pray, and file out. Describing the room was halfway to impossible. Who knows what it looked like way back then? It's been altered so over the centuries, with Romanesque this and Renaissance that....well, I don't really remember about the Renaissance part. I do know that the columns were Romanesque, and other parts were modified later, but I don't know exactly when.

Some Biblical Background
If you already know the biblical basics of what Passover is, etc., you may as well skip this section.

They were celebrating the Passover meal in this room, when Jesus told Judas to go out and do what he was going to do, quickly. Passover, which is the biggest holiday of the Jewish calendar, commemmorates God leading them out of slavery to the Egyptians.

For a quick history - Abraham, Isaac and Jacob were Jewish patriarchs. Jacob, had twelve sons, ten of whom were cruel to their dad's favorite kid, bratty Joseph. One day Joseph's figurative head went missing, and he informed all of his older brothers that he had a dream indicating that they would all bow down to him.

Rather irritated, they sold him into slavery in Egypt. Little Joseph rose in the ranks over the years, until he got dumped into jail for allegedly having sex with his masters wife. (oops.) God let him hang out there for a couple years, then gave him the wisdom to interpret a dream for Pharaoh, indicating that there would be seven years of plenty, then seven years of famine. Pharaoh, impressed with this wise young man, promoted him to be head of all Egypt. (God doesn't follow the corporate ladder, apparently).

So, when the famine came along, Joseph was in charge - and there to see his brothers come begging for grain. They were reconciled, and Joseph's father (the patriarch Jacob) and eleven sons moved to Egypt, where he was reunited with his favorite kid.

God had renamed Jacob Israel, and Jacob's twelve sons became the forefathers of the twelve tribes of Israel, whose descendants were traced for many generations.

Centuries passed (God clearly doesn't work on the corporate time scale, either), and the Jews - too prolific for a later Pharaoh's taste - became slaves in Egypt. Really miserable. So God told Moses to have all the Jews put blood on their door, and get ready to leave - no doing anything time-consuming like making bread with yeast in it. That night an angel went through and punished the Egyptians for the way they treated the Jews, slaying every firstborn son in Egypt - unless you had blood on your door, in which case you got 'passed over.' So the Egyptians, clever people that they were, let them go.

yee-hah! Well, except that it took them 40 years of whining and grumbling to reach the Promised Land God was leading them to (that awful time-scale thing again).

So, at the Last Supper, Jesus and his disciples were celebrating this release from slavery to the Egyptians, nearly two thousand years earlier. (Something along that line - not surprisingly for something that happened about four thousand years ago, it's arguable.)

Travelogue
I’m at the hotel, trying to get food over Passover. Tis downright painful. You can’t even get a bowl of soup. America, America, how I love Thee so… We can even get food on Thanksgiving! Pick a time, any time… so I’m attempting a tuna salad…a heated bowl of Progresso would be phenomenal.

I definitely had the wrong idea when I decided it would be 'so cool' to be in Jerusalem for Holy Week. I really don't recommend it, especially if you're traveling alone. It takes longer to get places because roads are closed off. Taxi rates are different. Everybody is celebrating with family, like Americans do at Christmas, so you wind up really lonely - I just wanted to cry so many times when I sat in those dining rooms. You can't eat a lot of stuff, as you can see above. Some of the cheaper dining rooms are closed off, so you have to eat at the super-expensive ones, because it's too risky to go out by yourself.

You get the idea. They are really strict about it here. I didn't realize Jews today were any stricter about the Sabbath than American Christians today - which is to say, it really doesn't matter much to the vast majority of us. But they even have a Sabbath elevator! It stops at every floor so that you don't have to push the button. I think it would be a lot more convenient to push the button and get where I want to go! The big problem with it, though, is that it beeps every single hour, even late at night and early in the morning, and near as I can tell there isn't a room in the place that you can't hear it beeping all night long.

For Passover the hotel I was staying at put a great big sign out front asking visitors not to bring any food into the hotel, because they had cleaned it all out for Passover, eliminating any scrap of yeast.

Speaking of which, at our festivals and holidays, we eat extra good food. But Passover food - yuck! Well, a lot of it. The cooks really try, and the better hotels succeed, but that success always seems to be a novelty to the eaters - like wow, someone actually made something that tastes good over Passover!

They can't use the microwave, I believe, and I don't think the stove was legit either. Pretty much all I could manage was a salad - many of the things on the menu are banned on the Sabbath/Passover, and I finally gave up and asked the girl what I could have. She said she didn't know, she's go find out! (I forget which rules applied only to Passover by now).

Which seemed to be pretty common. Everyone I asked as to why the rules and which ones had no idea. They all said, "I don't know, I'm not Jewish, I just work here." And I'd say, "Oh, but do you just know the symbolism?" "No," they'd say, "I have no idea." Which struck me as a little odd. Do they not talk to each other at all?

I also saw Jesus' prison today.

Walking the Crucifixion Route

2007-04-06T23:52:00.000-07:00

I always knew it would be an awe-inspiring experience to do the Via Dolorosa, the Way of the Cross, the 13 stations representing Passion Week. Every Good Friday pilgrims pack the streets, following a massive wooden cross, united in spiritual passion. Some even carry their own crosses, wanting to draw close to Christ's sufferings. I'd seen so many pictures in my research, but I never dreamed I'd get to be part such an awesome, unforgettable experience.

Until it drew closer, and I started to dread it. So many people mourning the crucifixion, the Good Friday heaviness multiplied by thousands; what a depressing day. But I couldn't come to Jerusalem on Good Friday and not participate in this. It was the ultimate, something amazing. I had to be part of it. So I set my alarm for 5:30; it started at 9:00 but a taxi driver told me I'd better leave by at least 7:30, preferable 7:00; it was so crowded, streets would be closed off. Of course - why hadn't I thought of that? My excitement mounted.

A taxi driver dropped me off at the wrong place at 7:15, but no problem. I had plenty of time to get there. Then I saw a local said no, don't take a taxi - look, a group is just starting, right there.

What a let-down! 50 people, all responding in some sort of litany thing. I didn't even have the paper. But hey - I had to be part of this. We finished Station #1, all filing out of the church, front rows first, is a solemn ceremony. I followed some people upstairs for Station #2; why wasn't everyone following us?

Because that was the 13th station. It started at 6.

You have never seen a more dejected little face. I sat down on a stone stump, put my chin in my hands and stared at the ground, wailing "God, how could you do this to me? I've...blah, blah blah" Finally I got up. I would not miss the Way of the Cross. How did I get to the beginning?

The minister decided I had two heads. Directions? Whoa. Way too complicated. "Should I take a taxi?" Oh, gracious no, all the streets are closed. You'll have to walk. But I can't tell you how to get there. Just follow the groups backwards. There are groups going all day."

"All day? All day? There are groups going all day?" Dejection, elation... I'm the emotional type. But hold on a second - follow them backwards?

"Oh, sure. You'll see them all over the place. You won't have any trouble at all. Just ask directions here and there. All the locals will know."

Hum. Well, I would not miss the Way of the Cross. Onward Christian soldiers.

Well, he was right. There were processions going all day. All about 15 people. Sadness and woe. But, I would not miss the Way of the Cross. So I followed them backwards, a lovely idea assuming they waited more than two intersections before turning. Finally I started seeing bigger groups, that was encouraging. 50 people was beginning to sound pretty good.

So I dashed down each street as a group came along, pushing people aside in an effort to see what their previous turn was. I was rapidly figuring out that getting two turns per group was joy defined.

Things weren't too bad at first. A lot of groups came, and I got it okay. But apparently it was an early-morning thing, because they got sparser. And sparser. And sparser. Often I waited 20-30 minutes per turn.

Four hours and fourteen zillion frustration-iotas later, I made it to the starting point. St. Mary Magdalia. The place I took a 20-minute taxi ride to yesterday.

Frustration or laughter. The laughter didn't occur to me. But I would not miss the Way of the Cross. Surely an English-speaking group would leave soon. I just had to find out when. I looked for the table of who was in charge. I looked upstairs. I looked downstairs. I looked at the corner.

No table. What? All organized events operates via tables. Sign-up sheets. A point-person, committe-leader...no go. I asked around. Oh, all the tours were pre-arranged. You had to pay in advance through your hotel.

Wait a second? You had to pay to participate in this great spiritual experience? Immorality defined! But I would not miss the Way of the Cross. I'd wait around for an English-speaking group. I'd pay extra.

An English-speaking group? Oh, those were pretty rare. Hopefully one would come along at some point though, and maybe they'll let you join.

I would not miss the Way of the Cross. I would wait.

Oh, but you shouldn't wait here. You need to go to the first station.

Wait a second. You mean I'm not at the first station?

Oh, no. You have to walk a bit to get there. Some groups just meet here. Follow another group, you'll find it without a problem.

More group-following? Oh, grand. But, I'll continue my hunt. I will not miss the Way of the Cross.

Eventually tenacity rewarded itself; I found the first station. Elation defined. People milled about. I bought a Coke and drank it facing into a stone corner; if they couldn't see me, I couldn't get in trouble. Rules or no, my soda was well-earned. An army troop couldn't have kept me from that soda.

All right. Tours. Some Russian groups wandered through, seeming to have already started. A French group. Some Germans. No English. Finally some woe-be-gone Americans asked me where the bathrooms were. Americans? Americans! All praise to God on high! Just a couple? Fine. No tour group. I had people to go with. And Americans, to boot! yee-hah! We decided to do the rest of the stations together, from station #2 on. Station #2?

oh, yes, we couldn't find station number one, so we gave up and started at station #2.

OK, I really felt like giving up by now, but I couldn't miss out on any of the Way of the Cross. This great spiritual experience. Surely I had to do every station. Besides, now God's reasoning is clear. Of course! I need to stay at each station and write about it. Being part of a tour group would distract me terribly; it would never work.

I somehow found out - by some person or other - that a major one was going at 12:00. A major one? The major one! It was it. It did exist. I hadn't missed it. yee-hah! Granted, God's used easier methods in the past, but I would get my Way of the Cross. My great spiritual experience, all those worshipers united.

So I waited for an hour, camera on my lap, staring into space. Finally we left. I was right at the front! The ultimate reward! Go God!

God wasn't into the mercy thing yesterday. Squished to death. I couldn't even keep my balance. It was awful. Tired, frustrated, people singing and chanting in a language I can't even read, let alone understand.

That was it. My grand spiritual experience. My fellow pilgrims, united in spiritual passion. A worship image I'd seen in pictures for years, never dreaming I could be a part of it.

A tenth of a mile later, I dropped out. Thank God! Much better. I could breathe. I could balance. And I didn't have to listen to people reading and yabbering in an unfathomable language.

But, my great spiritual experience still lay in waiting. I would do it myself. I would not miss the Way of the Cross.

I set out for Station #1.

Oh, you were just there. That's where everyone met. It's closed now.

I'd missed a station? What? Well, fine. I'd been at the station. I could remember what it looked like. Now, station number 2. I sat in a church and stared at a stained-glass window, fed up with life. Station #2 was doing no better on great spiritual experiences than Station #1. But at least I knew I was in it. Things were looking up. Finally an African group came in and sang "Yani Sore" for 15 minutes. Not the song "Yani Sore." The phrase "Yani Sore."

First it annoyed me. Then it relaxed me. Finally I struggled to repress laughter. I don't know why. It was that or frustration. Finally they filed out. Great! Now I could ponder the wonder of God in silence. My great spiritual experience at last!

Another group came in and varied the phrase. Oh, who cares! I'm about to crack up by now, and wondering what happened to the poor English couple that were sitting in the middle of it all. At least I was stuck in a chair on the side.

Life didn't get much better. My dreams of a great spiritual experience went out the door by Station #4, where Christ was buried or something, I forget, in some cave-type place. I stood in there drinking another Coke, apologizing to God for having absolutely no spiritual gusto left. I really did feel guilty, but I was just beyond.

Well, life got worse. I got lost on my way to Station #5. Finally some man decided he would help me. I made it to Station #5 panting. "Pray here."

What?

"Pray here. Pray to Mary."

OK...so I pray (not to Mary).

Move to iron grill in the floor. "Here. Pray here."

What?

Pray here.

But why?

Pray here.

OK, then. So I prayed "God, I have no idea why I'm staring down an iron grill praying or what's going on but anyway..."

"Pray here."

"I just did."

"Pray here. Pray to Jesus."

At least it wasn't Mary or iron grating.

Well so it went, to station 7. Finally I said I can do it. "Money." he said. I gave him 3 shekels - .75 US. Sorry, but if you don't ask for money beforehand, you don't get much. Sucks to be you. Aren't I such a sweet nice Christian? sigh. Sweetness was not my middle name by now.

Well, little competent woman that can do it herself, walked in circles until finally ending up back at station 4. oh, dear God. Can I burst into tears? I stared at the wall for awhile, then followed a group. And got lost. And followed a group. you get the idea. More hours, and I was at station #8. Which was closing in half an hour. (By now it was 4:15.)

All right, if every single one of these stations closed in half an hour, and I missed my Way of the Cross, the city would implode. I would ensure it. So I finished my non-existent meditations on my cold stone steps and dashed out the door. Where was station #8?

Oh, there is no station #8. Our tour guide said there are only seven.

What? Only 8 stations in my 13-station Way of the Cross? No way.

I really really really felt like believing him and quitting, but my little booklet said there 14 stations in my 13 station Way of the Cross, and I would do all 14 even if they did close. I would sit outside the church and meditate on the Scripture. I would not miss my Way of the Cross.

I dashed down a street. Where is Station #8?

Oh, just down that street.

Rapid dash. Wrong. Rapid dash back. Nothing. Rapid dash to the right.

A tour group! "Excuse me, do you know where Station #8 is?" I think that's the one we're on. That plaque of there, that's Station #8.

A plaque? One of my great spiritual experience sites is a plaque? Major let-down. But, wait a second... an American accent!

Americans! yee-hah! Pure delight. My day is worth something.

Indeed, it did improve from there. The most wonderful group from Colorado adopted me for an hour. The were so sweet and talkative and inquisitive and affectionate - I even got a hug when we parted ways at the end. The first bit of affection I've gotten since I left home three weeks ago, and I was delighted. I even followed them to the bus, figuring there would be a taxi there. Which there was.

It took me back to the hotel. Ah, paradise! I walked in my room, flopped down on my bed and ordered room service. Ring...ring...ring...ring... answering machine. In Hebrew. I left a message in the hope someone would call me back.

Well they never called and my fruit never came, but by that time breakfast and a candy bar sufficed. I put on my pj's and fell very asleep very fast. For eleven hours - one for each hour of misery, I guess. A final blessing.

Anyhow, I got my Way of the Cross. It and great spiritual experiences are now antonyms, but I got my precious, dreamed-of, awesome-to-be Way of the Cross.

ugh. Never again.

Well, if anyone's gotten this far I'm really impressed. A lot of complaining, I suppose, but it really was the most stressful day of my trip.

The Wailing Wall

2007-04-05T12:35:00.000-07:00

More to come - under revision! Also see The Temple: On the Grounds, from several days later.

(This is a continuation from the 'Cave of Gethsemane' post - same day, different site.)

It was still early so I went to see the excavated mansions of the Old City, where part of Jesus' trial took place.* I couldn't find it but I did stumble upon the Wailing Wall, the western wall of the Temple where Orthodox Jews pray, apparently because it is closest to the long-gone Most Holy Place, dwelling of God's Presence in the Temple burned by the Romans centuries ago.

On a sidenote - Jesus prophesied ~"Not one stone [of the Temple] will be left upon another." The walls that remain are from the Temple grounds, not the Temple building. The Temple grounds covered 15% of Jerusalem, and were surrounded by crenelated limestone walls. Covered colonnades often used for teaching bordered the inside of the walls, and lead into the expansive courts Gentiles and Jews could gather in. Closer to the center were courts restricted to Jews, and within those the Temple building. Not one stone of this remained after the Romans torched it in 70 A.D.

I went up and touched the Temple wall - wow! It was the most amazing thing, after all those hours, months and books, all that exhaustion, frustration and determination, to touch that Temple wall. I was so grateful that God brought me there. It was like the fruition of everything, the final gift and most gracious reward.

ciao!

I also saw the Cave of Gethsemane and the excavations just outside of the Temple today.

*Approximate, probably or I'm guessing at the numbers and formation.

The Cave of Gethsemane

2007-04-05T12:12:00.000-07:00

(Click here for information on the : Garden of Gethsemane , - this blog is the cave that most of the disciples were in.)

The front of the cave. The red and gold curtain covered the opening for an olive press, which was a common installation in caves during that time period.

I've seen a zillion pictures of the roomy cave holding 20-odd chairs, and - being an inexperienced cave-explorer- assumed it was a simple hole in the Mt. of Olives. Yet all my research said they went there 'to keep warm,' and may have spent many nights there on their various trips to Jerusalem. But, despite all my information and much puzzling, I couldn't picture it being much warmer. Cozier perhaps, and out of a harsh wind - but warmer?

Turns out it's an underground cave, protected from the frigid air . Early April evenings are chilly in Jerusalem (trust me), so they were probably praying in the back corner, behind the stairs, coats wrapped closely around their bodies. Did they doze off like the trio in the olive grove? It was warmer in the cave, they were 'exhausted with sorrow,' and it had been an intense holiday replete with food and wine. Or did they keep each other awake, huddled in a group, praying, sharing fears, struggling to make sense of all He had told them that night?

Anyhow, so I'm picturing the dejected disciples in the cave fighting sleep, and the trio shivering in a wild olive grove, picturing Roman soldiers marching from the Antonia fortress behind the holy Temple, down the grassy slopes and over the Kidron Valley bridge. On and on they marched, 50 rows of 12 men*, stumbling in the moonlight, tripping on the rocks.

Ceiling design enhancements by medieval pilgrims.

By my calculations, they would have come across this hill. The Antonia fortress was to the right of that wall (i.e., go left at the corner), and back a bit. The soldiers probably came from the Antonia, across the Kidron bridge and into Gethsemane - which is probably a route similar to what Jesus and the disciples had taken many times.

*Approximate, probably or I'm guessing at the numbers and formation.

A Spiritual Experience
Etienne de Villiers, administrator of the site world-sos.net, e-mailed me a revelation experienced by his friend, Mrs. Wil Laponder:

"Filled with respect, I took your name which was the most beautiful for me: 'Christus.'* My pencil moved around your name, and what was the result? A flower with eight petals and the `IS' in the middle**! That is just like You are, in the smallest flower and in all; in the large and in the smallest, You are everywhere.

The IS flower drawn by Mrs. Wil Laponder. 'Christus' means Christ in Afrikaans, and 'IS' means 'am,' as in God's name 'I Am Who I Am.'

You probably taught that to Your disciples. At Gethsemane, I asked You where the real Gethsemane was. As always, you instructed me in images. We had to walk straight ahead, over stones and walls. You showed us the Mount of Olives, and the place where You were during the last hour, alone with Your great sorrow, because people did not understand You and therefore judged You. You said: 'Here, My struggle was the most difficult.' I sensed Your presence at that special place in the field with enormous awe and reverence.

Later, at the church dedicated to Mary, You asked me to cross the bridge, and You lead us to a cave-door with the name 'Gethsemane' above it. Inside, drawn on the walls of the cave, were several 'IS'- flowers, exactly as You made me draw them! Later, back at the bridge, the radiance of Your Light was intense above the cave. Oh Father, how can we ever thank You enough for the revelation of the 'IS'- flower and the truth it holds; as only You, the I AM in all, 'IS' truth.

*’Christus’ is Afrikaans for Christ
**God's name, `I AM WHO I AM', is `EK IS WIE EK IS' in Afrikaans

I AM WHO I AM (Exodus 3:14).
I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me (John 14:6).
At that day ye shall know that I am in my Father, and ye in me, and I in you (John 14:20).

May His I AM live in you eternally."

Note: While I think it's a wonderful experience to have and don't doubt that God sometimes gives His followers such divine revelations, please don't read this and think God will speak to you in a similar way. He grants different experiences to different people.

Outside the Temple

2007-04-05T01:00:00.000-07:00

More to come - under revision! Later I saw the outline of the old entrances - wow! After all those pictures, to see the public's Double Gate , touch the priests Triple Gate, squeal and jump in front of them. (Just kidding.) I was talking to myself though, so excited, "I can't believe I'm here! This is the most awesome-est thing in the whole entire world!" etc. etc. Then I realized someone was behind me and I was like oooooooh, I feel stupid. But he was very nice and offered to take my picture. (I declined since I looked atrocious.) Anyhow. Tomorrow is the crucifixion procession, the Via Dolorosa, so I'll be going to that, and then to the supposed tomb where Jesus was buried (which is definitely not the tomb, but I'll explain that tomorrow.) I also saw the Cave of Gethsemane and the Wailing Wall today.

The Kidron Valley

2007-04-04T23:45:00.000-07:00

The Kidron Valley, which runs between eastern Jerusalem and the Mount of Olives, plummets rapidly into a ravine that is dry much of the year. The bridge that joined the two is probably what Jesus and the disciples used on their way to Gethsemane.

The Kidron Valley - that dark splotch on the pathway at the bottom is a person. Just the other side of the path the Mount of Olives begins.

The Highest Point of the Temple
Jerusalem is split and surrounded by valleys. To the east is the Kidron Valley, to the south of the Old City is the Valley of Hinnom, and the Tyropoeon Valley ran southeast through the Old City.

The Temple was in the northeastern 15% of Jerusalem, and the Kidron Valley plummeted down beside it.

Satan tempted Jesus in three ways: telling stones to become bread when he hadn't eaten in forty days, taking him to a very high mountain and showing him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor, and taking him to the highest point of the Temple. "If you are the Son of God," the devil said, "throw yourself down. For it is written: 'He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.' Jesus answered him, 'It is also written: 'Do not put the Lord your God to the test.''

A candidate for the furthest drop is the area of the Temple just above the Kidron Valley.

The Red Heifer
On the annual Day of Atonement, a red heifer carrying the weight of the sins for all Israel was sent out of the Temple courts to cross this bridge and wander into the netherlands of the nearby hills.

The eastern gate of the Temple opened almost directly into the Kidron Valley. I believe that the eastern, or Shushan, Gate, was used expressly for VIPs, and the other peons most of us would have been would have had to circle two miles to the main entrance at the Double Gate, near the commercial area.

Crossing the Bridge to Gethsemane
Jesus and the disciples almost certainly crossed the Kidron Bridge after departing the 'large upper room' the Last Supper was held in, and leaving for Gethsemane. Judas and the soldiers almost certainly used this bridge to follow them. All of them almost certainly used this bridge on their way to the high priests mansion.

A Garbage Pit
I believe that in Jesus' time this ravine was used as a garbage pit, and several centuries before that the zealous King Josiah burned all the pagan statues in it.

Travelogue
There is a nice tourists walkway going through the Kidron Valley, which fortunately for tourists is nice and deceptive. I'm not sure I would have made the climb down if I knew how far down - and up! - it was. The real killer is that once you're on the other side, it's a pretty empty area, so you're stuck going all the way back down - and all the way back up!

The Kidron Valley walkway, facing the Mt. Olives.

I tried crossing this at the wrong time of day, being quite unconcerned about it - it was still light, and there were people around. The problem is the church closed at 5, and thus departed all the taxis! I waited and walked and walked and waited and walked back and waited - finally wound up walking way, way far into a completely non-touristy area where I felt anything but safe. Dumb taxi wouldn't come, no matter what! Thought I was gong to get run over in the process, but - clearly! - I fared a bit better than that.

People!
Afterwards I returned to my hotel. The night before the waiter got upset with me for inadequate tipping, so this time I had the remains of a free basket of fruit provided the first night. It's a nice trick I figured out - when that runs out I'll just order room service for another basket. $10 initially, but any dinner in a tourist place is $10 or more, and it will serve me several nights. Plus, I don't have to be surrounded with people I don't know celebrating a holiday I don't understand in a language I don't speak. (Instead I go crazy being locked up between four walls. My second hotel in Tiberias had a beautiful view that encouraged writing and gave an illusion of space that prevented claustrophobia. Unfortunately that's harder to find in a city.)

I also saw the Mt. of Olives and the Garden of Gethsemane today.

Last Updated: August 23, 2008

The Grove of Gethsemane

2007-04-04T17:54:00.000-07:00

Given the innumerable webpages on Gethsemane, I thought I'd break with my normal pattern for this blog and do something different. If you want to picture Jesus' footsteps to the olive grove called Gethsemane on that fateful night, start here:

An image of the Kidron Valley, with the Temple just behind the wall, and the Mount of Olives and Gethsemane on the opposite side of the ravine.

Jesus and his disciples probably walked through the crowded commercial area just to the right of the corner in the wall. Here there were moneychangers, people selling sacrificial animals, shops selling spices, pottery, etc. Now turn to walk along this wall, on the walkway adjacent to it. It is less crowded here; indeed, there is no place to build a house, nor any shops, for this is the very edge of Jerusalem. The massive white ashlars that make up the outer Temple walls are on your left; just over the high railing on your right is the Kidron Valley, and your stomach might turn a little if you peek over the wall.

You walk for a bit - quite a bit, actually. Eventually the beautiful stones turn into harsher stone, and you know you are looking at ancient walls, built by that great King of Israel, King Solomon. Vaguely you hear the rabbi teaching. “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were nto so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.”

But look now - you are nearing the Eastern Gate of the Temple walls - the gate you can't enter, because you're not a VIP. Resentment burns inside of you, but the beauty of the Beautiful Gate, the most beautiful of all, stops you short. Rosettes carved into limestone and plated with pink marble, and the tall malachite columns with Corinthian capitals, turns your mind to the marvel the king greated, and the glory it gives to Adonai.

But time to move on! You turn right, to cross the stomach-turning depths of the Kidron Valley via the Kidron Bridge.

An image showing the depths of the Kidron Ravine - in the rainy season there is a trickle of a brook at the bottom. The dark splotch at the bottom is a person.

Ahead of you is the Mount of Olives, with its endless supply of olive trees and evergreens.

A photograph of some scenery close to what Jesus and the disciples would have seen when the crossed from the Temple, across the Kidron Bridge, to the Mount of Olives.

It is Passover now, and the city is crowded. Many of those caves, you know, are filled with people that have no family to stay with in Jerusalem.

But, you discover when you reach solid ground, there is a place not far away that is empty of the candles lit in other corners. You stop with the disciples, sit down with them and admire the view.

An image looking from the back of what is now a landscaped garden claiming to be Gethsemane, across the Kidron Valley to the Temple walls. If I were up higher, you could see the gold dome, just inside those walls, of the Islamic shrine that now stands where the Temple once stood.

Such beauty! From here you can see over the outer Temple wall to the building itself. It's stones show brilliantly in the moonlight, showing themselves as the glory of all Israel. The stars glint light off of the golden spikes adorning the top of the Temple.

The doors have been locked and guards posted, but you can guess that all is quiet inside. The chaos of the day is done, the celebration meal over, everyone drowsy from the greatest festival of the year - and some wine, you think with a smile.

You see Jesus teaching the disciples for awhile, and wonder what he is saying. And why he isn't talking in the nice, warm cave? Evenings in late March are cold! But he is pointing towards the building - what is he saying? You can barely catch it. Something about every stone of the Temple being destroyed.

You cringe! The Temple is still new, a masterpiece of beauty.

Most of the disciples get up eventually, and go into the cave nearby. Smart people! you think. Stay nice and warm. And yet there faces had been a bit disturbed that night... perhaps it was a troubled Passover festival for them, and they were praying. Huddled in their cloaks, most likely!

But three of them stay out. One leans against the gnarled trunk of an ancient olive tree; the other two pick the smoother ground of younger trees. Jesus walks forward, and you wonder why he isn't talking with the others, enjoying the night. Then you see his face - and cringe again. Something is dreadfully, dreadfully wrong.

A photograph of the landscaped garden with olive trees in it, which is allegedly Gethsemane. Tourists aren't allowed in, so you can't get a very good picture.

You watch him closely, and frown suddenly. That is blood dripping from his forehead! What sorrow is encompassing this poor man's soul! And his words turn your own blood cold. "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will." He gets up, steps over a stone in the cracked dirt, and returns to his three disciples. "Could you men not keep watch with me for one hour?" he cries to the one by the gnarled tree. "Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak."

He walks back, closer to you now, and his words make you want to cry. "My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done."

You peek behind him for a moment - and see what he sees, as he turns around. His body is tense as he walks toward them, and the tenseness of his words carries. "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death," he says. "Stay here and keep watch."

"Abba, Father," he says, nearer to you again now, everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will."

The men's bodies are slumped over the trees, and his words filled with disappointment at the one on the gnarled trunk. "Simon, are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak."

Suddenly torches light the night,angling their way toward this olive grove of Gethsemane…what is going on? And wasn’t that one of his disciples, leading the way? You run until you are out of breath, and only the torches and the starlight enable you to see them. They are talking to him…asking him who he is. And he is telling them what you already know, what they already know. Everybody in Jerusalem knows who this man is. Jesus of Nazareth, claiming to be the Messiah.

What is going on…they are shackling his ankles – as he stands cooperatively. They drag him away, over the Kidron Valley Bridge you had all just crossed with freedom.

Note: I left out some of the details, but Peter took a sword to the high priests servant, chopping off his ear, which is an odd thing to aim for. Maybe he drank a little too much at that celebration, or was too tired and upset to see straight. Or maybe Malchus ducked. Or maybe Peter actually was aiming for the man's ear... see why at my blog entry here.

The Mt. of Olives

2007-04-04T12:00:00.000-07:00

The Mt. of Olives and I didn't start off as great friends, since that's where my septic tank room was. phew! Gross. I was so afraid I'd smell like one! Anyhow, things did improve. The Mt. of Olives is on the eastern side of the city, and back in yonder years when the Temple existed, and the Day of Atonement existed, a red heifer symbolizing the sins of all Israel would be sent across a bridge over the Kidron Valley, to oblivion on the Mt. of Olives. It's pretty crowded today - my septic tank hotel claimed that it was within walking distance of the city. Well, they may be right, but I sure wouldn't feel safe walking it! What an idiot I can be sometimes. duh, the cheapest place is in the rattiest area... Hi, Emily, wake up!! Anyway, here's some views of it. (will come - 2/28/08) I also saw the Garden of Gethsemane and the Kidron Valley today.

The Damascus Bazaar

2007-04-03T16:13:00.000-07:00

I nearly got robbed the today. ugh! Taxis from here on out, even though only about five blocks to my hotel.

I struggled through the Old City bazaar yesterday, an interminable claustrophobic mess that was really cool to see.

I was hopelessly lost and overwhelmed and finally some very kind tourists, neither of whom knew each other, took pity on me and walked me all the way to the beginning of the bazaar. Then confessed they'd been lying, they didn't really want to go there, they were just getting me there. sweet wonders! thank thank you for ensuring my sanity remains!

But I'll write about that another time. My battery will die, and this hotel doesn't come up with the blogger.com screen either.

Terrifying Drive to Jerusalem

2007-04-02T11:39:00.000-07:00

At last I have the internet in my hotel room instead of down in the lobby - $7/hour! It was $2/hour at the Holiday Inn in Galilee. :( But I have it none-the-less, for free. Apparently if you walk in with a laptop you automatically get put on the business floor, no questions asked. Cool deal! Now if I could just have a clock.

Godrays in the Jordan River Valley, on the highway from Galilee to Jerusalem. For a spiritual take on this picture, click here.

I have yet to find a hotel room with a clock? Even in the $301/night room I stayed in (@1/3 that price). Now somewhere in $301, couldn't you put in a clock? I'm also missing the little basket of shampoo/conditioner/moisturizer etc. you get at the hotels at home. One - I thought this was creative - offered soap/shampoo/conditioner all in one? I put it in my hair just because I had to try it. (It feels really disgusting to put soap in your hair.) Another offered a push-button-thing of soap in the shower - good - and another of 'cream wash'? Is that another name for moisturizer? I must be out of style.

But, I have a bedspread, the room doesn't smell like a septic tank, and there are no lizards crawling on my wall. (The Dead Sea - I gave a prolonged shriek, packed my bags and slept in the car. Someone told me that a lizard on my wall was a good thing as it would have 'eaten all the bugs in the room.' Oh fantastic...but you have to look on the bright side. Sunrise over the Dead Sea is pretty, and I would have missed it if the lizard hadn't gone a-crawling on my wall.)

I was so terrified of Jerusalem, I made myself dizzy and had to prolong checking out. That's crazy. I spent a year in Russia, 4 months in Korea and have driven a rented car through much of Israel. So why so scared of a city? It's silly.

A rock formation at the corner of the Jordan River Valley and the highway leading through the mountains described below, possibly near where John the Baptist had much of his ministry.

I think a lot of it had to do with my bus station experience, when I was in Jerusalem a few days ago. One sweet angel sent by God helped me through the security check and waited while I got my stuff together, which went through helter-skelter because I didn't know they screened everything, like we do at an airport. There was a long line, the woman didn't speak English, every one was shoving past me while I took my coins out of my pocket, jacket off, backpack off, wallet case off, etc.

The sweet angel, forever nameless, even made me put my jacket back on and my camera and wallet over my head before she left. "You've got to be more careful. You could have lost everything if I hadn't held it for you."

Then I almost got lost in the bus system, and after that my septic tank room... oh dear. Jerusalem and I were just having big issues. Then I realized I hadn't finished all my stuff in Galilee, so I went back. And stayed in my nice $301/room with its mahogany and marble furniture. And my gorgeously gorgeous view of the Galilee. yee-hah! (That's the one I got for a third of the price.) I was really needing some special treatment, and it makes writing a good deal easier.

The 5:00 a.m. view out my room in the Caesar Tiberias, overlooking the Sea of Galilee harbor. Tiberias was the capital of Galilee in Jesus' time and there was a large harbor there.

So I suppose it wasn't completely irrational to be afflicted with Jerusalem terror. And part of it I think was fear reacting with medication to produce physical effects.

ugh - I had the worst drive from Galilee to Jerusalem. I did it before at night, no problem, I couldn't see the eternal millions of feet I had to fall. It was horrible. "Please God help me. Somebody help me. I can't do this. I don't want to die falling off a cliff. I'm sorry I ever complained there were no mountains near me. That's really fine. I'll never complain again, please God, just get me ouuuuut of this." (Big cliff). etc. etc.

Oh, it was terrible. I thought we would never stop going up. I was so terrified to look to the side and so determined to stay in the left lane (once it appeared), where I couldn't see the cliffs that I didn't realize we were out for awhile. Then all of a sudden it dawned on me that I wasn't going up and down. And I looked to the side and there were fields... and then I laughed hard at myself. Sometimes I'm not brilliant!

Well by that time I'd sweated up a storm of fear - gross - and oh! I smelled horrible! So I stood in the ladies room at the airport with a t-shirt I'd packed and soap trying to scrub out the stink - ugh! It was disgusting. I got a lot of strange looks and giggles. It's amazing how social women can be when they want to know what you're doing!

Scared of Jerusalem

2007-04-01T11:35:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting on my bed in Galilee at 6:30 a.m., packed and waiting for the breakfast buffet to open. I haven't blogged the last couple days - shame shame! I got dispirited and tired. Israelis seem sweet, the sites are fascinating and Galilee is beautiful, but I'm desperately lonely and my trip is only half over. All I want in this world is to go home.

I'm terrified of Jerusalem, since my horrid bus station experience. Did I tell you about that? I forget. This time I'm driving from Galilee to Tel Aviv to drop off the car, then taking a shuttle directly to my hotel in Jerusalem. It's worth the extra money - at least I don't worry my stuff will get stolen.

How come trips cost so much money? I'm trying not to worry, since the Bible says worrying is wrong, but it's a mixed message among most Christians. If someone worries we reassure the person, normal enough, who wouldn't - God will provide, is in control, won't let you go, you have to trust Him and not worry. But if you do let go of the worry, you and/or others think you're being flippant and irresponsible. It's so confusing. The Bible says worrying is bad, but then if we don't worry where the world says we should, that's perceived of as wrong too sometimes.

I can't win!!

OK, got to run. Sorry these are abrupt, I don't want my battery to die. I'm not too worried because I'm pretty sure no one will read all of them at this point anyway. Next blog...today's I think!

p.s. - American hotels need to take a lesson from their Israeli counterparts - refrigerators! A fantastic invention. I love being able to put a soda in it, or anything. And most rooms seem to have one, not just expensive ones.

Post-Resurrection Breakfast

2007-03-29T10:15:00.000-07:00

Sometime after Jesus was resurrected, perhaps a month or so, a bunch of disheartened disciples went fishing. Suddenly poof! John spotted Jesus on shore, barbequing up a fish breakfast.

The Church of the Barbeque Breakfast. The stone Jesus roasted the fish on - supposedly - is by the Mensa Christi sign.

Cooking Food
I’m rather curious as to how frequently this happened, without the Messiah. Did Jews back then have fish barbeques like Americans have barbeques with burgers? It sounds reasonable to me.

The rest of the time cooking was done at home, logically enough. Ovens were cheap and some families had two, one in the courtyard and one in the common room. Kitchens weren’t used much in the first century, and the common room served as a place for children to play, food to be cooked and eaten, construction work to be done, etc. Weather around the Sea of Galilee is fairly mild, and these things were probably done in the courtyard for most of the year. It was also very humid, and in a place and time with high humidity and no air conditioning, the out-of-doors must have been preferable for both cooking and other activities during the hot summer months. The families sometimes ate on the roofs, which were flat and suitable places to chat, study Torah and dry fruit.

I never had a suitable appreciation for the work needed to prepare a meal in antiquity - in order to make bread and any other grain-based food, such as oatmeal, grain needed to be ground for approximately four hours a day!

Additional Information:
An Expanded Versions of This Article: Cooking
More Information: A Standard Peasants Meal

The Church of the Barbeque Breakfast
There is a church, and at least one alleged location, for virtually every Gospel occurence; the church here lays claim to the stone that Jesus roasted the fish on. Near the shore are 6 heart-shaped 'double-column' stones, angled to form part of a colonnade.

You can see them somewhat now, leading from the holy steps to the gate.

Abutting the church are stone steps the Oxford Archeological Guide to the Holy Land says may have been a remnant of quarrying for limestone, but no one really knows. Since there is a railing protecting them and a plaque "This is A Holy Ground," I guess someone disagrees. Sometimes the common-people Fodor's (which I lost) would be a lot more useful than some proper (read dry) Oxford thing. I mean c'mon, I want the scoop!

A holy quarry that goes up from the ground instead of down.

I sat on the pier, quite possibly here since Jesus’ time, writing, until the monk started giving me strange looks. (Not the one standing with his nose in his book when I walked into the church; I had to double check that he wasn't a statue, in all seriousness. Although later on I did see him walk - then I had to double-check it was the same monk, walking and talking.)

Resurrection Breakfast Spirituals
It was weird to sit on a pier Jesus must've sat on at some point. That's one of the few times the 'Jesus was here' concept sunk in, and it was strangely comfortable and right, in a sense none of the others had been. The pier felt much holier than the limestone steps a gold plaque declared 'holy ground.' It's all in the mind I guess.

I'm sitting on one pier...in the distance you can see another one curving out into the water, away from me, and one beyond that curving toward me. That's an ancient Tabgha harbor - the Galilee was filled with harbors back then, especially in this area, which was one of the most populated.

In a way I felt like my image of Him as Christ human, Christ divine was given life and made tangible on that beach. In so doing an amazing concept dulled by a lifetime of knowledge struck my heart anew.

Maybe it was because it happened after the resurrection, which shifts the balance to parallel what I'm taught - Christ in heaven, Christon earth - v. the Gospels almost exclusive telling of Christ on earth.

On this beach, He is the Resurrected Christ mysteriously appearing on earth in human form, not a human Christ mysteriously doing Son-of-God things. And the former is closer to what I know Him as - the Resurrected Christ doing mysterious things in my life, in tangible and intangible ways.

Travelogue
From later that afternoon - The Galilee is right in front of me again, the same ridge stretching out toward yonder horizon, swallowed by the morning fog. These rocks are different though, stretching down to scary slopes I navigate on hands and knees.

That latter sentence is altogether true; . I decided I had to explore further today, in order to find a shorter way to the car. Due to my brilliance, I navigated a lot of the mountain on my hands and knees, with innumerable prolonged shrieks

Aaaaaaaaaagh!! Aaaagh! Aaaaaagh! You get the idea. There was this big dirt slope that went on and on and on, which is I was most certainly going to take a tumble down.

After standing at the top for quite a few minutes, contemplating my predicament, I decided to go back the way I came - quite a trek, but preferable to somersaulting down a dirt hill.

Trek...trek...trek....lost path... briers...uh-oh...turn around. So I'm stuck staring at this masterpiece of dirt again, until I finally took off my socks and shoes, and proceeded to yelp and shriek my way down the hill, grasping at plants to keep me from falling, whereupon the plant would pull out of the ground... you get the idea. It took me forever! Next time, Emily, take the path cut out for you, please!!

Tiberias, Galilee's Capital

2007-03-27T09:17:00.000-07:00

Joanna, Mary Magdalene, the 'other Mary,' Susannah, and the other wealthy women who were following Jesus likely had this type of view from their bedrooms, unless they weren't from Galilee, because the wealthy lived in Tiberias, and vacationed on their estates in the countryside.

The view from my hotel room at 4:51 a.m. You'll have to use your imagination a bit - I haven't put these photos through Photoshop yet.

As the wife of the minister of finance, the disciple Joanna traveled in the highest echelons of Galilean society. She surely would have lived in Tiberias, Herod's capital, and probably had one of the prettiest mansions, and prettiest views, available. (Hopefully she didn't see it at 4:51 a.m. very frequently.)

Because the Galilee is ringed with hills, the majority of the wealthy would have had beautiful views - and some of the poor.

Tiberias
Tiberias was the capital of the region of Galilee, which was split into Upper Galilee and Lower Galilee. The Sea of Galilee, on which Tiberias was located, was part of Lower Galilee. It was an economically split city inhabited by Galilee’s wealthy, their slaves and small shopowners or artisans such as woolmakers, basketmakers and candlemakers. The average Galilean would go nowhere near Tiberias, which King Herod Antipas had built on a graveyard, unclean ground by Jewish law, just 10-15 years before Jesus’ ministry. Outside of the city walls slept the very poor, often homeless or selling indecent wares.

Expanded Versions of This Article:
Mary Magdalene: An Aristocrat
Tiberias, Home of the Aristocrats

The Scripture
Luke 8:1-3: After this, Jesus traveled about from one town and village to another, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom of God. The Twelve were with him, and also some women who had been cured of evil spirits and diseases: Mary (called Magdalene) from whom seven demons had come out; Joanna the wife of Cuza, the manager of Herod’s household; Susanna; and many others. These women were helping to support them out of their own means.

Mark 15:40: Some women were watching from a distance. Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and Salome. In Galilee these women had followed him and cared for his needs. Many other women who had come up with him to Jerusalem were also there.

Luke 19:16-17: “Well done, my good servant!” his master replied. “Because you have been trustworthy in a very small matter, take charge of ten cities.”

Travelogue
I just woke up in paradise, with a shadow of a taste of what the wealthy women that followed Jesus, helping to support them out of their own means, probably had every day. A marble-topped nightstand on either side of me. A mahogany mirror in front of me. My own couch to my right. And, a gorgeous view of the Galilee outside my floor-to-ceiling windows.

How, dear Lord that loves to get me wonderful deals I can't afford, did I get this Caesar Tiberias Hotel for cheaper than the atrocity called The Holiday Inn? Stupid thing! Never again will I stay in that horrid place - you can't sleep! Either the baby next door is crying, or the teenager is blaring music, or people are chatting at ten decibels in the hallway, or the Sabbath elevator is beeping every hour, or someone's alarm is going off next door... it's really horrid. Never stay there!

Instead, get really desperate and e-mail for a place to stay that night. Poof! You'll get a phenomenal deal that will cost you even less than the Holiday Inn! All praise to God on high.!

Speaking of Sabbath elevators - Jewish hotels have a specific type of elevator, called a 'Sabbath elevator.' It is programmed so that, on the Sabbath, you don't have to push the button of the floor you are staying on. Just hop in, and it stops at every floor automatically.

And every time it stops, it beeps.

From six a.m. to two a.m.

And in the lovely Holiday Inn, even rooms down the hall a bit can hear at loud and clear.

At midnight.

At one a.m.

At two a.m.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrr!

If there is no one on that floor, and you are on floor eight, you stop at, depending on the hotel, either every floor or every other floor. The door opens, you wait, nobody's around, you get frustrated and punch the button to close the door, but nothing. Finally it shuts…next floor. Some hotels have it arranged so that it stops at every other floor going up, and the other floors on its way down. If you want to get from floor eight to floor five - well, get in at floor eight. Down to six, four, two, ground. Up to 1, 3, 5. Grrrrrrr!

The Wikipedia entry on Sabbath elevators has this to say about it: "The use of an elevator in a Sabbath mode, is an example of a legal workaround, where seemingly "forbidden" acts can be performed by modifying the relevant technology to such an extent that no law is actually violated. Usage of a Sabbath elevator by those who are otherwise capable is considered by some rabbinical authorities as a "violation" of the Sabbath, therefore many Orthodox Jews might prefer to walk up or down the stairs instead of taking an elevator."

Last Updated: October 4, 2008

Nazareth

2007-03-26T09:24:00.001-07:00

Matthew 4:13-16: Leaving Nazareth, he went and lived in Capernaum, which was by the lake in the area of Zebulun and Naphtali, to fulfill what was said through the prophet Isaiah: "Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali, the way to the sea, along the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles - the people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned."

You know, March and April are the 'period of latter-day rains' in Israel, more colloquially known as 'sorta rainy.' Which means it should be 'sorta sunny' sometimes? But it should really be renamed: "The period of latter-day rains and omnipresent clouds." And I've never seen a great photograph with a cloudy sky. (Grumble grumble.)

A March day on the Galilee.

I confess, it does turn blue sometimes. If I tilt back my head and aim my camera straight up, I could frequently get a gorgeous photo of a big patch of sapphire.

The problem is, the sites don't fly.

I headed an hour west of Galilee to Nazareth, but after Sami's warning of Nazareth traffic being horrendous compared to Tiberias, which had me lost for two hours and sobbing, I ran low on durability and chickened out after half an hour of k-turns.

Nazareth: Its Own Character
We often think of Jesus' childhood village as Hicksville, Israel, but this was not an isolated prairie town. Galilee was a small area, and Nazareth was probably an integrated part of the regional system. It was roughly an hour outside of Sepphoris, the capital during Jesus’ childhood, and probably a satellite village of it. Sepphoris was rebuilt by King Herod Antipas in 19/20 A.D., and it's logical that Nazareth’s villagers played a key role in this rebuilding, and that Jesus worked on its carpentry - not necessarily by choice.

The suffix used for the word translated 'carpenter' in the Bible usually means woodwork but can also refer to masonry, and Nazareth may well have specialized in carpentry and stonework, using wood and limestone native to the area. If so their role in rebuilding Sepphoris may have contributed to the external framework of the major buildings as well as their internal woodwork.

It's possible that an aristocrat owned part or all of Nazareth - even that Nazareth had become part of his estate. While there was certainly strong animosity from the peasants toward the aristocracy, who taxed them brutally, this would have increased the resentment dramatically.

The Nazareth ridge, looking south across the Jezreel Valley to Judea.

Additional Information:
An Expanded Version of This Article: Nazareth
More Information: A Typical Village

Last Updated May 27, 2009

Life by the Sea of Galilee

2007-03-25T09:28:00.000-07:00

The Temple Tax Fish

2007-03-22T00:43:00.000-07:00

Jesus gave Peter rather unorthodox payment instructions when the tax collectors came knocking:

Matthew 17:27: ...Go to the lake and throw out your line. Take the first fish you catch; open its mouth and you will find a four-drachma coin. Take it and give it to them for my tax and yours.

A bit of background here: All of the religious festivals were centered around the Temple in Jerusalem, three of which were mandated by Scripture for every adult male. The Jewish (v. Roman) ruling body convened on the Temple grounds, the tangible glory of all Israel was centered in the gleaming gold and limestone of its walls; indeed, even the top of the Temple had gold posts spaced around the top to prevent bird doo from sullying its holiness.

A lot of money was required to keep up the Temple itself, it's expansive grounds, and its workers. To this end, every Jew paid an annual half-shekel tax. Jesus told Peter to pay it with a coin he'd find in a fish's mouth.

What's called "St. Peter's fish" today, and has been since the days of the Roman Empire, actually can't be that fish, because you didn't catch it with a line. However, it's a great marketing strategy: cheaper than the real fish (a barbel, most likely), easier to clean, easier to cook, more plentiful...

Love that money!

Expanded Versions of This Article:
The Temple Tax Fish
The Temple Tax

It's really disconcerting to eat something that's looking at you. I finally yanked off some fin or something, I don't know what it was, and plopped it over its head.

St. Peter's Fish At a Kibbutz
I had a front-row seat for somebody that absolutely loves pretty views, and the sunset rewarded me for having the grit to eat on the patio with a heavyweight windbreaker pulled tight around me and dreams of hot cocoa.

Unfortunately I didn't get the camera out a minute earlier, but this is the fading glory of a sunset over the Galilee, from Kibbutz Ein Gev, looking west toward Tiberias. To the right of Tiberias 10 - 15 miles lays Nof Ginosar, with the Jesus Boat (see previous entry), Capernaum, and Bethsaida (which may not be on the water any longer - earthquakes and avalanches and whatnot during Roman times).

Picking out the bones - or whatever the sharp things you could choke on were, since musht apparently don't have many bones to pick out - was hazardous to my sanity, and it was only the peace given by this pretty view that saved me!

Peculiar People
Well anyway. So I told you yesterday I put on the Do Not Disturb sign, and the maid cleaned it anyway, and also took the bedspread? Well I don't mind someone cleaning my room if they really insist, except I lock my suitcase when it's being cleaned, so it's a bit of a pain. But no big deal - unless you take my spread away. So I trotted down to reception, who looked at least as astonished as I was, and eventually someone came. Turned out she had stuffed it in a cupboard?

Whatever floats your boat. So today I put on the sign again. I know it was there because I checked when I came back from breakfast. Well apparently she really thinks my room should be cleaned, because she took it away. So she came in and I said "No, I don't want it cleaned..." Later I left and when I came back presto! it had been cleaned.

I was like okay, if she's really determined to clean it, go for it. Then I realized she'd left me two chocolate muffins wrapped in plastic and tied with ribbon, and a bottle of water. Now this is service! For this, hey, she can have the dumb sign. Food is definitely the way to a poor tourists heart!

The Full Scripture Passage
Matthew 17:24-27: When Peter came into the house [after talking with the tax collector], Jesus was the first to speak. "What do you think, Simon?" he asked. "From whom do the kings of the earth collect duty and taxes—from their own sons or from others?"

"From others," Peter answered.

"Then the sons are exempt," Jesus said to him. "But so that we may not offend them, go to the lake and throw out your line. Take the first fish you catch; open its mouth and you will find a four-drachma coin. Take it and give it to them for my tax and yours."

Last Updated: May 29, 2009

A 'Lonely Place'

2007-03-20T11:51:00.000-07:00

I’m in a small cave burrowed high into a Galilean hillside, sitting on an split log worn smooth by centuries of wind and rain, resting my feet on rocks coughed up by the earth's fiery depths millenia ago. Oddly, a tree is growing at the back of the cave, arching along the ceiling, into the light it was born to crave. The small dirt patch in front of me is worn flat, stones trod level by centuries of pilgrims aching to see a place where their Lord prayed, broken only by insistent grasses struggling between the rocks.

Little birds hop in front of me, then dash away in a fit of fear. Patches of yellow and purple flowers grow wild, nourished by the gifts of sun and rain, budding glories exulting in dreams of full glory. Halfway down the slope a lone palm tree flourishes, sparse trees forest the coastal bottom and hills smattered with evergreens fade into the distant miles.

A cave a couple miles from Capernaum, Jesus' hometown, allegedly on the hill where he fed 5,000. There's quite a good chance he prayed here at times, when he went to 'lonely places.'

A bit further back.

The hill where Jesus fed 5,000, huh? It’s a little difficult to pinpoint since, in a very hilly region, one Gospel is sure they arrive at Bethsaida to feed the 5,000 and another claims they leave from Bethsaida to feed the 5,000.

Luke 9:10b, just before the feeding of the 5,000 - Then he took them with him and they withdrew by themselves to a town called Bethsaida.

Mark 6:45, just after the feeding of the 5,000 - Immediately Jesus made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd.

Logic, however, is in its favor; sitting at the top of the hill, you’d swear the voices halfway down were about to come around the rocks just in front of you.

I’m curious as to where you put 5,000 men? I mean, that’s a lot of space! Here’s what an empty field on a hill near the Sea of Galilee looks like in March:

Some people think this was a field owned by nobody, which would make it a tangled heap of green stuff gone wild, laden with bugs and impossible to sit in.

One theory is that it was used for grazing sheep and/or goats. The grass would be nibbled short, and the animals could go back to their owners’ courtyards.

A Lonely Place Spirituals
I wonder if this was a 'lonely place' you chose to pray in before heading off on that final trip to Jerusalem. Did you wrestle hard with God? Was it a prequel to the anguished prayer spilled from the heart, in an olive grove called Gethsemane?

It’s an inspiring place to pray, I’ll give You that. Wrapped tightly in a cloak, nightfall long past, listening to the quiet lapping of the sea you created. In the dark, you could listen and escape.

Cave of Christ's, cave of mine, cave of my Lord's feet. He sat down, and they crammed in, disciples with muscles bulging by the power of fish and plow, pulling their cloaks tight around them to escape harsh mountain winds hurtling through the mountain passes, frothing the Galilee's clear water. Peter sitting in the middle of that old log stretched across the rocks, because Peter was always in the middle of everything, marking ordinary places with sinfulness and righteousness.

For only Jesus and those knowing their sinfulness can memorialize holiness into an ordinary cave on an ordinary hillside.

I wonder if any of the disciples ever cried here. And if anyone comforted them. I cried here, hysterical tears born of loneliness and discouragement. I wonder if any of their tears were wiped away by the hand of God on earth? ‘Cause I very much wished He would show up and wipe away mine.

Travelogue
I called reception at the Caesar Tiberias Hotel at 5:50 a.m. to find out when I had to move my car by to not get a ticket.

“8 a.m.”

Anyone who knows me knows I like to sleep in. And to tell me at 5:50 a.m. that I have to be presentable and out the door and having moved my car by eight every morning inspires minor wrath, until they finally went outside and found me a parking spot and offered to move it for me. I cracked up when I got off the phone. I’m never like that – in fact I’d probably benefit from having a bit more of that in me. Ah, the power of 5:50 a.m. crankiness!

Not feeling like dealing with this again, I decided to do what the man suggested I do – buy two or three in advance. The girl at the front desk twenty minutes later: “Oh no, you just come in when you park the car, and then you buy one.”

“Yes, but the man just said…” I changed my mind, threw up my hands, and headed for the elevator.

It’s actually kind of ludicrous to make such a fuss, because I’m at breakfast by that time most days, anyway! Oh well, there’s no going back to sleep now, so instead I’m writing this blog. I’m stressed enough as it is. I need to use every spare minute I can find. And at 6:33, wide awake and enjoying my ever-gorgeous view of the Galilee, I feel like a minor success in the art of spare minutes utilization!

Last Updated: May 27, 2009

The Sermon On the Mount

2007-03-20T08:45:00.000-07:00

"Keep out!" "No entry!" "Keep off grass!" "Private!"

Jeez. More like a palace than a church. Apparently I liked the Church of the Sermon on the Mount so little that I didn't take any pictures, although I thought I did. oops!

It's up another one of those steep Galilean roads with drivers that whiz this way and that, frightening me into saucer eyes and wailing prayers. I paid at a gate, which was much more keep-out-ish than most Israeli sites, hiked to the top of the hill, and waited for a nun to open that gate for me. She didn't speak English, but I remember the look on her face was very compassionate, and somewhat amused, when she saw my bafflement. The whole experience was very official, formal and unenjoyable, but if I go back I will try to get some pictures. And a tour! I get frustrated trying to figure everything out from a guidebook.

A typical Galilean hillside. Picture a road zigzagging up the hill and drivers whizzing past you. The yellow flowers are omnipresent in March and April.

The church itself is very small - too small to hold a service of any reasonable size in - and it seemed more like a shrine than a church. It was particularly uninspiring with tour groups trekking in and out. The octagonal shape corresponds with the idea that octagonal churches are often built on sites where celebrated religious events allegedly occurred.

Lilies of the Field: The Scripture
Matthew 6:28-34: "And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

It's hard to see what's so special about them here, but you get an idea of what they look like.

Lilies and Us
"...for not even Solomon is dressed like one of these. And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry...”

My rather unsophisticated journal has relevance to this excerpt from the Sermon on the Mount: "Well, I gotta say, lilies wilt pretty fast when detached from their source of life!" Meaning, I picked one in the field and took it in the taxi - the taxi driver gave me a really strange look - but by the time we got ten minutes down the road it was a limp and lifeless disaster sitting in my lap. I left it in the taxi by mistake - just as well, I suppose. We can't separate from our source of life - God - and not wilt.

They are long-stemmed flowers with a bright red hue and a green and black center. Their five petals have an iridescent sheen to them, and, as I wrote in my journal, "they shine extra-pretty." A childs crayon could replicate the color of a daisy, but there's an unearthly beauty to these fragile anemones.

Solomon was a tenth-century B.C. king renowned for his wisdom and wealth, and Jesus made essentially the same statement I just did when he said "Not even Solomon in all his splendor is dressed like one of these."

In other words, if Solomon's money couldn't buy it, nobody's could. But God can provide it for free.

Additional Information:
Expanded Version of This Article

Travelogue
You really attract the most perplexing attention when you travel by yourself. I was walking around the grounds, trying to find a route down the hill that didn't say 'Keep Out!', when this woman walked up to me: "Hi, how are you?..."Where are you from?"...."Where are you staying?"..."Are you traveling by yourself?"..."How much longer are you staying at this church?" etc. etc., until I was really perplexed as to why she would even care.

It turned out she was traveling alone and had been praying for a way back to the bus station - a taxi, anything. She had seen me sitting in the Church of the Multiplication of the Loaves and Fishes earlier that day, thought I might be traveling by myself and asked for a ride. We walked around for awhile - it was nice to have someone to talk to - but never did find a way to get much of anywhere around the property. "Keep out!" the walkways all said, and we were both a little disgruntled. I mean, it was just a walkway! It's not like we were going to trample down pansies or something.

Anyway, we left and headed back to Tiberias - her to the bus station, and thence to the Tel Aviv airport, and me to the hotel to get some paperwork-stuff done. I wanted to get on the plane with her! Israel's wonderful, and I recommend it to any and all pilgrims traveling with a tour, but I miss America.

I also saw alleged field where Jesus fed 5,000 people today.

Last Updated October 3, 2008

Feeding the 5,000

2007-03-20T08:17:00.001-07:00

In one well-known episode, Jesus satisfied thousands of hungry people by multiplying two fish and five loaves of bread offered up by a young boy.(Matthew 14:13b-21)

The Feeding of the 5,000 alleged location. The thing that looks a little like a tombstone is a monument to the event. There's a double ring of rocks just big enough to sit on, and it's tempting to imagine the disciples sitting in a circle, listening from behind as he preached to the crowd.

The Meal
The little boy had two small fish and five loaves of barley bread. The fish were probably sardines, the smallest of three main kinds of fish available in the Sea of Galilee. The five loaves of ‘barley bread’ were the food of a broke peasant. Usually used for animal fodder, people only consumed barley when they could scarcely feed their families. It didn’t taste as good, didn’t digest as well and wasn’t as good for you. The fact that they were eating it in the spring or summer, not long after the summer, is another indication of poverty; good food shouldn’t run out until winter is approaching. Perhaps his family was in danger of being taxed off their land.

In other words, this boy gave pretty much everything he had to Jesus.

Kind of like we should.

A snapshot of the alleged place where 5,000 men, and some of their families, listened to Jesus preach and consumed the free fish and bread he created for them.

Additional Information
Expanded Version of This Article (Fish, Bread and 5,000 Men)
More Information: Where Do You Put 5,000 Men?
God & Fish: Scripture and the Sabbath

Feeding the 5,000 Spirituals
Somehow when I saw that hillside, and added five thousand faces, and saw two yucky fish and five loaves of animal fodder, and realized it fed them all, something clicked. Of course Jesus is the first hero, but think further. The little boy is a hero too.

"See what you can find," Jesus said.

"Here's a small boy with two shrunken fish and five loaves of crappy bread," Andrew answered.

Good chance there wasn't another option waiting for that small boy at home, yet he gave it anyway. I've got two shrunken fish and five loaves of animal fodder too. I feel a little like Andrew - "Here's a little bit of writing talent, Jesus. I don't see how you can do anything with that though. Look at all the people out there! The competition! The cost! What are you even thinking?"

It’s an interesting and seemingly out of character commentary that Jesus multiplied barley bread, not wheat bread. So I write this book, and he multiplies it into 25,000 sales of figurative animal fodder? Charming. I like the idea of a Jesus that turns something not-so-great into something that’s at least good far more than a Jesus that takes something not-so-great and uses it just the way it is. On the other hand, I suppose it’s encouraging that God can use not-so-great stuff in amazing and powerful ways.

My dad shot himself a few months ago, and I’ll never forget sitting on the steps of the gazebo near his grave, consoled by the fact that he lives on in the lives of underprivileged children that only had a chance at this thing called life because he donated money to get them off the streets. He used to work on a suicide hotline, when he was younger, and he lives on in the people that made it through life because there was someone to call.

Yet the success, the money, the respect, the social status –they didn’t even make it to the grave.

Neither would un-given fish and fodder.

Travelogue
I was so busy taking pictures that I left my guidebook on the wooden stand at the front...oops. One thing about this traveling alone thing - you don't figure out as much. It's kind of frustrating, and if I ever come again it would be a lot more useful to come with a tour. Everyone thinks it's so cool I'm traveling by myself - but you're really better off with a tour, I think.

Anyhow - so I went to the bookstore there, and the guy there took the strangest interest in me. He thought I should buy this book on Galilee, so he said "I'll make a deal with you. I'll give you this key to a private beach. It is very beautiful. Go down there, look at the book, if you still don't want it, fine." OK. The weird thing was, it was exactly the most perfect-est book I could have wanted. Thanks God!

So I went to pay for it. 'Are you in a hurry? Can you wait a minute? Here, you can sit here, behind the counter." I wandered around the store instead, until I had everything memorized three times over (it was a small store). Then he came over and totally surprised me - "What do you like in your coffee? I made you some." I am getting so puzzled.

Well I waited another half hour or so, then he had time. It turned out he was from Nazareth (an hour away). He'd dug out some brochures on Nazareth that they had in the back. So he sat there and went over them with me, said everyone passes through Nazareth in a day but it has much more to offer, see here on the map and hundred meters down is this, etc. Here's when they have this special ceremony, here's the Annunciation procession Sunday, etc. etc. Here's my phone number, here's the store number, keep in touch, let me know if you have any questions.

Modern Nazareth is quite a substantial size, as you can see in the background to this picture of the Nazareth ridge.

Etc. etc. You get the idea. I was massively perplexed by this time - three hours after I'd wandered into a small souvenir shop looking for a specific book. So I started to leave, until he realized I didn't know enough about the sites right around, so he said, go here, this one closes between blah blah blah and yakety yak...(a 2.5 hour lunch break?!!)

Well so I wish this story had some ending punch line but all I was left with was confusion - was God trying to tell me something? And if so, what? The book part and the beach parts were obvious, but that was about it. Go to Nazareth, I guess!

I left with the most puzzled look on my face, found a little scenic overlook and stared into space for a bit, trying to decipher the point of the entire thing. Then I realized I forgot my Fodor's, and wound up sitting in the church pondering fish, for a good long while.

A year later - Lord God, forgive me for being too chicken to go there? I am so sorry...and regret it so much.

Last Updated: May 27, 2009

The Capernaum Synagogue

2007-03-19T07:55:00.000-07:00

Jesus probably preached and healed in the Capernaum Synagogue innumerable times. Capernaum was Jesus' hometown during his ministry, and some of his closest followers lived there.

The Capernaum synagogue, the quay just beyond it, the many harbors with wooden boats and smelly fish, the seawall stuffed with broken pottery and the rocky hills surrounding the town were what he called home. They are where he prayed, hiked, preached, laughed and perhaps cried. Below are spiritual reflections from my visit and information on what Jesus' synagogue looked like and .

The Capernaum synagogue. Worshipers would have sat on benches built into the synagogue structure, like these tourists are. It's quite likely the synagogue Jesus taught was a rougher version of this one, with grey stones not shaped into symmetrical blocks, and it may be buried underneath it.

Capernaum Synagogue Spirituals
You know my perpetual question at every sight I've gone to has been "Why, God, why? Why did you do it? Why did you come down here to live with a bunch of lousy people, who can't get anything right, and keep insulting you and rebelling against you? Why did you bother?" And yes, I know the pat answer as well as any other Christian - "Because He loves us so much." With the emphasis on the 'so much.' But don't give me pat answers - I can't stand the things.

Well I sat there for a very long time, watching Asian tour group after American tour group after African tour group after undecipherable-language tour group proceed in and listen to someone babble in a language I couldn't understand and then proceed out.

After awhile I began to feel really dense, since the answer was stuck right in my brain.

"For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save what is lost..."
"For I have not come to abolish the Law but to fulfill it."
"For the Son of Man has come...that they may have life, and have it to the fullest."

So as I sat there pondering the matter, I realized that I was sitting there staring at the answer right in front of me. I was sitting in a synagogue built 1700 years ago, representing the synagogue Jesus taught in to thousands of pilgrims every year. And some of them were passing right before my eyes. The answer had wondering eyes and awe-filled hearts. The answer stood there talking about the glory of God. The answer was talking, teaching those who didn't know. The answer was listening, wondering, amazed.

The answer came from 'every tribe and nation,' every continent and so many languages, came thousands of miles to a country they didn't know and couldn't understand, to hear someone teach them about Jesus in one more way, to have the old, old story come alive in one more way.

"The Son of Man has come to seek and to save what is lost, that they may have life and have it to the fullest."

And there they were. Right in front of me. Praise God for giving His often-dense kids one more shot.

I have to go plan my trip more, because someone warned me off Jordan...'Bye!

What Jesus’ Synagogue Looked Like
The synagogue was probably built of grey basalt hauled from local fields, with stone chinks and pottery shards stuffed between larger stones. It was probably very plain, partially because synagogues served as the town hall, court, etc. as well as a religious center for Sabbath services and Scripture studies.

Furthermore, in Christ's time, Jews strictly obeyed the second of the Ten Commandments: "You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth." (Exodus 20:4.) Nothing like the paintings depicting religious scenes seen in some churches today would have been available.

Capernaum houses just outside the Capernaum synagogue. The external Capernaum synagogue walls probably looked like this. Just beyond the stone wall in the background is the Sea of Galilee.

There were probably inscriptions near the entrance to people who had done significant work for the synagogue or the town, hewn from stone by a local. For example, it’s quite possible there was one to the centurion that built it.

Luke 7:2-5: There a centurion’s servant, whom his master valued highly, was sick and about to die. The centurion heard of Jesus and sent some elders of the Jews to him, asking him to come and heal his servant. When they came to Jesus, they pleaded earnestly with him, “This man deserves to have you do this, because he loves our nation and has built our synagogue.”

Because it was a court, there may also have been some blood spattered on the floor and walls: Matthew 10:17: Be on your guard against men; they will hand you over to the local councils and flog you in their synagogues.”

If there were too many people to fit on the bleacher-style seats, some families probably brought home-woven straw mats with them. It's unlikely that women sat separately.

Village streets surrounded it on three sides, and the international north-south trading route ran between it and the Sea of Galilee, just yards away. Matthew, the Capernaum tax collector mentioned in the Gospels, probably collected tolls from both that trading route and ships docked in the nearby harbor.

Additional Information:
A Sabbath Service Reconstruction
Synagogue Life in Jesus' Time

Last Updated: May 27, 2009

The Jesus Boat

2007-03-18T07:59:00.000-07:00

Some brothers at a coastal kibbutz found 'The Jesus Boat' buried in the sand in 1986, when the water level in the Sea of Galilee was unusually low.

This flimsy thing is what got stuck in a massive storm, and somehow survived. You can see the video on the wall, showing what it looked like in action.

Its cedar body, and the oak supports that ran crossways, were repaired numerous times over the years, for a final count of twelve different types of wood. The secular and religious taxes of first century Galilee left its peasants with either debt or little to spare, and the repairman may have used whatever was in the scrapyard.

As the largest boat in standard use on the Galilee its capacity was twelve to thirteen men, but it generally took a crew of four to five to operate it as a fishing boat. It had one sail, square and perpendicular to the boat.

Normal baggage would have included a variety of linen nets, cork to make the top of the nets float, lead sinkers to make the bottom of the net sink, perhaps needles and thread for emergency repairs to torn nets, plenty of ropes, at least two oars and probably some food, such as bread or fig cakes.

Sailing to the Diaspora
The Jordan River empties into the Sea of Galilee, dividing the creeds of its peoples. On the west Capernaum began the Jewish territory, ruled by Herod Antipas. On its eastern flank Bethsaida started off the Diaspora, meaning all Jews living in the pagan lands outside of the Land of Israel, ruled by Antipas’ half-brother Philip.

Access by land from one side to the other wasn’t convenient – in those days, bridges weren’t quite so easy to build, and people from pagan lands may have been hesitant to enter Jewish territory. The best route was by boat, which Jesus and the disciples often took advantage of.

(‘Sailing to the Diaspora is temporarily in both this and bibledigging.)

The Jesus Boat Spirituals
I stood there and stared at it for awhile, awed by a Lord that sailed in a flimsy boat with a ratgag bunch of messups. Strange, it hits me anew every time. It is my everylasting question on this trip - Why, God, why? Why did you do it? Why did you bother with us? It makes no sense.

Oh, I know the old pat answer, but I hate pat answers! He loves us that much....etc. etc. etc. .... yes, I know. All right already. I believe it.

It perplexes my heart, because it’s not logical. Who am I that the Son of God would bother with me, who are any of us, just measly little humans that can't quite get anything right. So why bother? Yet He did... so much love, my own smallness can't quite comprehend it.

Last Updated: May 27, 2009

The Dead Sea

2007-03-16T18:42:00.000-07:00

The Dead Sea is right opposite a brutal wilderness, and is surprisingly pretty when the sun shines; the water is a turquoise green, and you can see the Jordan mountains on the other side. Unfortunately I was there on one of the rare rainy days, and only got pictures when it was cloudy!

This rock I'm sitting on, this beach I've become a part of, is alive with the sounds and sights of life. Waves crest and crash. People bedecked in summer colors float and frolic in warm water, even though I’m shivering with my hood up and jeans on and the wind’s whipping my hair. (Journal entry.)

The Salt Sea
The Dead Sea was, and is, famous for its salt; in the Bible it is often the ‘Salt Sea’, the valley south of it is ‘The Valley of Salt.’ The rabbis called the ‘salt of Sodom’ unending, which means that they dug it out of salt mountains instead of mining it deep into the ground. (Sodom being the proverbial and biblical town of destruction, which is located by the Dead Sea.)

A significant portion of the Dead Sea salt harvest must have been for preserving fish, meat and other food. These were done at salteries, one of which was in Magdala, home of Mary Magdalene on the Sea of Galilee, and some of the Dead Sea salt was probably shipped there. Magdala had the perfect combination for a salting installation: plenty of fresh water (the Galilee is a freshwater lake), salt and fish (lakes tend to have fish).

Here slaves and day laborers worked in huge vats, perhaps ten square feet and eight feet deep, that layered salt, fish and ice until the fish were saturated enough for long-term preservation. They also had vats of water to clean it and a furnace room for cool seasons, as well as drying racks for the fish.

In a world without refrigeration, salt was used heavily to preservation, to the point that it tasted disgusting, as well as for flavor. They actually soaked some of the salt out of preserved fish in order to eat it.

The Temple consumed a great deal of salt, both for purity reasons and to prevent the priests from slipping as they walked on the altar ramp, which they had to do barefoot. As a result, salt would have signified purity as well as preservation and flavor to the ancient Jew. (Fortunately Jerusalem isn’t in Alaska.)

Dead Sea cosmetics are actually a huge trade in modern times (I felt rather exotic purchasing Dead Sea deoderant) and the aristocrats probably utilized them back then as well. Tiberias was the wealthy capital and coastal port on the Sea of Galilee, and it’s quite possible ships stopping at Tiberias arrived with salt cosmetics to prevent acne.

Dead Sea Spirituals
This place makes me feel small, alone in a great big world I can’t quite understand. Sometimes beauty is deceiving; it’s creepy here, cruelty and glory side by side. I suppose that’s how it goes spiritually. As the beauty of this turquoise sea parallels an endless line of barren mountains, so my growth in God Almighty reaches into yonder tough times.

I feel trapped between a rock and a hard place, swimming down blue waters in a sea defined by death. Blessed be your Name, and maybe that’s the ticket.

Odd, there’s beauty on shores bereft of life, sheltered with barren mountains etching hopelessness into horizons near and far. So what’s the secret to this beauty, this sea of beauty lying between death and the unknown?

How can I get this God? Is it really just cast all your cares upon Me? It doesn’t make sense, that anything born of goodness can survive in a land that should hold naught but pain. Nothing lives in this piece of turqoise beauty – no schools of fish dash by, no kelp floats to the surface, no children search for shells lining the shores.

I can’t even sink here – a good thing in a sea of death. "Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid"...is that what it is, the secret to this beauty of the heart, and contentment of the soul? Is it all based on the trust of a child I can never be?

Travelogue
I was so relieved to get to my hotel night before last, after driving down Route 90 in the blackness, stopping at some roadside flea market turned permanent sort of something because my car was careening back and forth on the road I was so tired, & I didn’t want to land in the Dead Sea – people might float in it but I’m not so sure cars do - so I stopped to get a few sodas - yes, three! – the guy looked at me like I was a little nuts – and after seeing a bunch of men staring at me and having the suddenly creepy feeling, after buying the third one, that I’d better get out of there. Which I did, in a hurry – rather like a macho teenager in the movies trying to show off his hot car by pealing out of the nightclub parking lot.

Well I made it to my hotel, obviously – ugh! The guy hardlly spoke English, quite problematic since I can’t even read the alphabet let alone speak the language, finally I got some sort of receipt from him and a key, and after fifteen minutes of wandering around – well, maybe five, but it felt like fifteen – I found my room.

I felt like I was in a pre-Civil War dorm room. I actually took pictures of the room, it was such a cold piece of yuckiness. Well so I dropped my laptop and suitcase on the floor, climbed into my pajamas and sat on the bed and stared into space (it’s a little hard to sleep with three sodas in you.)

I actually slept that night though! That was a really cool feeling, after flying from America to Israel and arriving at Tel Aviv at 5 a.m.

The Wilderness

2007-03-15T09:33:00.000-07:00

I went to the Dead sea, near the place where David hid from Saul - I couldn't believe how beautiful it was, although the mountains lining the beach were an atrocity. I didn't know God made things that ugly!(Maybe I should have contemplated cockroaches before I went.) They are the biblical 'wilderness,' hundreds of feet of desolate rock and bare dirt, akin to the land Jesus was tempted in.

A close-up of the hills lining the Dead Sea. This is similar to the land Jesus was tempted in. Mark 1:12-13 - At once the Spirit sent him out into the desert, and he was in the desert forty days, being tempted by Satan. He was with the wild animals, and angels attended him.

Nahal David is a rocky gorge that torrents of water have carved out over the millenia. It comes down in flash floods that kill, and its sister gorge was closed off when I was there, in case it flooded.

Nahal David, in En Gedi. David and his men hid from Saul in these rocky crags. If you strain your eyes you can make out a large group of teenagers in the middle, and a few in the bottom corner. This was taken in mid-March - the mid-February photograph on the site I linked to above makes things look a lot greener. (Alternatively, it may have graduated from Adobe Photoshop! :)

At the very end of the gorge there's a waterfall, and you begin to realize that there might actually be some logic behind this oasis rumor. Not a great deal perhaps, as it's a pretty thin waterfall, but there is a fair amount of greenery clinging to the rocks near it, and you begin to see the correlation.
Gravity has clearly changed its tactics according to this waterfall, but you get the idea. Song of Solomon 1:13 - My lover is to me a cluster of henna blossoms from the vineyards of En Gedi. I don't have any idea what henna blossoms look like, but I'm thinking maybe things have changed a bit over the last three thousand years, because this is the lushest part of Nahal David I could find - at the 'lush season.'

The place depressed me just being there. All this plain rock and dirt, ugh. I can't imagine growing up there - I'd be a depressed discouraged mess.

The Scripture - Judas Iscariot
John 6:71 - Then Jesus replied, "Have I not chosen you, the Twelve? Yet one of you is a devil!" (He meant Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, who, though one of the Twelve, was later to betray him.)

John 13:2 - The evening meal was being served, and the devil had already prompted Judas Iscariot, son of Simon, to betray Jesus.

John 13:26 - Jesus answered, "It is the one to whom I will give this piece of bread when I have dipped it in the dish." Then, dipping the piece of bread, he gave it to Judas Iscariot, son of Simon.

Matthew 10:4 - Simon the Zealot and Judas Iscariot, who betrayed him.

See sections below for more Scripture.

Judas Iscariot, the Dagger-maker from Kerioth
I read a couple books with sections on Judas, and turned up some interesting information on his name. The meanings are in italics:

“The word [Iscariot] can be geographical, designating the town from which he came. It can also come from a word meaning “dagger-carrying assassins,” and meaning that Judas was a Zealot party member. The word also may come from the Hebrew word meaning ‘false one’; or finally, perhaps the word came from both Greek and Hebrew, meaning the one who “handed over” [Jesus]. At this point individuals can pick and choose the meaning that makes more sense to them…‘Iscariot’ probably designated Judas’ place of origin, but not without some sense of a relationship to the Zealots, and the name somehow relates to what Judas did.” (O’Grady, 190. Italics mine.)

“His surname, Iscariot, signifies the region he came from. It is derived from the Hebrew term ish (“man”) and the name of a town, Kerioth – “man of Kerioth.” Judas probably came from Kerioth-hezron (cf. Joshua 15:25), a humble town in the south of Judea.” (MacArthur, 182, author of the MacArthur Study Bible. Italics his.)

Kerioth was near the southern end of the Dead Sea, a region known for its copper and iron deposits. Since many towns specialized in an industry – see my Nazareth entry – it’s quite sensible that a town near metal deposits specialized in metalwork of some sort – say, dagger-making. This is even more likely in light of the fact that there aren’t a lot of ways to make a living in the desert.

“For I am bringing you into a good land - a land of streams and pools of water, with springs flowing in the valleys and hills; a land with milk and barley, vines and fig trees, pomegranates, olive oil and honey, a land where bread is not scarce and you will lack nothing, a land where rocks are iron and you can dig copper out of the hills.” (Deut 8:6-9)

Judas Son of Simon Iscariot
John states that Judas was the son of Simon Iscariot. This is slightly odd, since surnames persay didn’t exist, and most people were known by their occupation or father/husband, e.g., Simon son of Jonah, James son of Alphaeus. If their location was significant in identifying them, you might use the place instead – e.g., Jesus of Nazareth. There were a mighty lot of Jesus’ around, and everybody would have known who Jesus of Nazareth was.

Perhaps Judas was known by both his father and his location because both were significant to his identity. This would explain why his father is given a surname, which doesn’t add up with the other examples in Scripture – ‘Simon Iscariot’ may have been a name people knew. ‘Jenna Bush’ might not mean much in twenty years, but ‘Jenna Bush daughter of George Bush’ would.

Simon the Zealot consistently precedes Judas’ name in the lists of the apostles. The Zealots robbed and murdered those oppressing the peasants, all in the name of killing for God.* Judas acted like a Zealot, yet he wasn’t referred to as one when listed. If Iscariot had a more specific designation, that would make sense.

Nearly all of the iron and much of the copper deposits were from the southern desert, where Kerioth was located. It’s possible that Kerioth specialized in a specific type of dagger, like Bethlehem specialized in a specific type of pottery, and Judas’ family ‘owned’ Kerioth and/or its industry. Aristocrats did sometimes own towns; see my Nazareth and/or Tiberias entry. This would add up with his stealing from the common purse of the group – it’s easier to go from poor to poor than it is from well-off to poor, with the fact that he acted like a Zealot but was listed right after Simon the Zealot and wasn’t referred to as one, and with both aspects of the name.

Trusting God
This is what the LORD says:
"Cursed is the one who trusts in man,
who depends on flesh for his strength
and whose heart turns away from the LORD.

He will be like a bush in the wastelands;
he will not see prosperity when it comes.
He will dwell in the parched places of the desert,
in a salt land where no one lives.

"But blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD,
whose confidence is in him.
He will be like a tree planted by the water
that sends out its roots by the stream.

It does not fear when heat comes;
its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
and never fails to bear fruit."

Travelogue
I went do Nahal David and the Dead Sea, as described above. Then back to the hotel. Jammies on again…. Sitting on bed…. Staring into space…thanking God I didn’t go to college before the Civil War….

Shriieeeeeeekk! Shrrriiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeekkk!

There is this thing on my wall, with legs, that looks horribly like pictures I’ve seen in books of a disgusting member of the reptile species named lizards! That weird splay-legged thing, seven or eight inches long, I think, but I can guarantee you, when it heard me it took off – behind the microwavae!! Oh gross! A lizard hiding out in my room and I’m supposed to sleep???

Oh dearie me no. None of that.

I heaved my laptop and suitcase off the cold tile floor onto the couch made of plywoods cloth cousin, stood on the bed to change back into day clothes, dragged everything to the car and slept there.

Yes, I’m serious. And I have to give myself due credit here – those were two good, long, loud shrieks, even for me, and I can shriek pretty well when put to the test.

I hate lizards! What ever was God thinking when he made lizards?

They must have evolved.

Well so I saw the sunrise next morning, over the Dead Sea – it was kinda pretty, actually. I never knew the Dead Sea could be pretty – seems rather like an oxymoron – and I don’t recommend my methodology for investigating the matter. I did, however, enjoy the moment – here’s my journal entry:

“I’m sitting in a car by the shores of the Dead Sea. The sun is just emerging, glinting things with beauty after a depressing rain. Palm trees that were bent horizontal in the wind an hour ago stand tall now. The fog has lifted and I can see Jordan. It’s really weird to stare across a narrow sea and see another country!

"I never understood before why they called it the Dead Sea. Now I get it – virtually nothing lives here. Even the shore is nothing but rock and dirt. I’m a little perplexed as to why the palm trees smack in front of me aren’t landing on my car, the way they’re blowing this way and that. The ones in the distance are flattening again now. The Jordan mountains are disappearing again. Storm clouds cover the sky to my right, left and behind me, but straight ahead they are clear blue. Beyond that, they’re moving in for the kill.”

Then I went to breakfast at the kibbutz in my clothes-turned-pj’s-turned-clothes-again – that’s the last time I ever stay in a kibbutz – where an American reporter traveling alone informed me that it probably was a lizard, and I really should have left it alone because it would have eaten all the bugs for me.

Oh fantastic.

She also told me to nix my plans to go to Jordan, which apparently is a really stupid idea for women traveling alone, despite my travel guides comment that Jordan is one of the safest places in the world.

So now I’m homeless. This is going to be a very interesting trip.

Future Glory! :)
The desert and the parched land will be glad;
the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.
Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom;
it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.
The glory of Lebanon will be given to it,
the splendor of Carmel and Sharon;
they will see the glory of the LORD,
the splendor of our God.

Strengthen the feeble hands,
steady the knees that give way;
say to those with fearful hearts,
"Be strong, do not fear;
your God will come,
he will come with vengeance;
with divine retribution
he will come to save you."

Then will the eyes of the blind be opened
and the ears of the deaf unstopped.
Then will the lame leap like a deer,
and the mute tongue shout for joy.
Water will gush forth in the wilderness
and streams in the desert.

Sources
MacArthur, John, Twelve Ordinary Men, W Publishing Group, 2002
O’Grady, John F., Men In The Bible: The Good, The Bad and the Ugly, Paulist Press, 2005

Where David Slew Goliath

2007-03-14T15:32:00.000-07:00

Low ridges, the color of flesh, flank this broad field – living flesh, living bodies, living battles, with the camp on the left spared and victorious by a faith rooted in God on high. “I defy you in the name of the living God,” hollered David, as he walked from the narrow streambed running along the base of the Israelite ridge, with five smooth stones in his bag.

Goliath charged down the opposing ridge, across the broad field of dark mud laden with swaying hay, through the grasses blowing gently as they raised glorious heads above all.

The base of the Israelite ridge, and part of the field.

Part of the Philistine ridge; the field where they fought was to the left. Presumably the camps of the armies went back quite a bit.

A boy threw a stone, and a worshiper of pagan gods, rich in human strength, was slammed forever to the ground. And so David climbed up the long dirt path winding into the Israelite camp, toward King Saul, and the heap of armor discarded by this boy of passionate faith, in a God that scoffs at mortals armor.

Where David Slew Goliath Spirituals
Armor? Who, indeed, needs armor, when they have the Living God fighting for them? Nary a soul, as Paul cried in a letter written thousands of years ago: “Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.”

It is odd to see this field, where it all took place - this field of might, faith and power from on high, that conquers every one of my battles.

Every one of my battles that I surrender, that is. Are you letting Him conquer yours, or are you trying to slay Goliath with your own aim and might?

Shepherds Food
1 Samuel 17:17-19 - Now Jesse said to his son David, "Take this ephah of roasted grain and these ten loaves of bread for your brothers and hurry to their camp. Take along these ten cheeses to the commander of their unit. [e] See how your brothers are and bring back some assurance [f] from them. 19 They are with Saul and all the men of Israel in the Valley of Elah, fighting against the Philistines."

Seed stored after drying or parching saved better than undried kernels or kernels ground and baked into bread. David's father was telling him to take ten loaves of bread and roughly 5.5 gallons of dried kernels to his brothers.

The kernels, which preserved well because of their tight husks and the lack of moisture inside, would have been soaked and ground for several hours before they could be made into bread.

The Scripture: Shepherds, Angels and a Baby Messiah
Luke 2:7b-15 - [Mary] wrapped [the newborn Jesus] in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ[a] the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about."

Shepherds? Yuck!
In David’s time the land wasn’t as crowded as it was in Jesus’ time, and shepherds were still of some value. By Jesus’ time, they were outcasts, particularly in crowded areas like Bethlehem. They stunk, for one, and for two they required land that others wanted. Because they lived in the fields sometimes, they were far from the religious education offered to many Jewish boys in Jesus’ time (or soon thereafter – this is debateable). Any girl not betrothed by 15 or so may have been resigned to the likes of a shepherd.

The Judean Foothills

2007-03-14T09:47:00.000-07:00

I’m sitting in a park on Route 383, in what I think is the Judean foothills. It’s 8 a.m., and I’ve just left the airport in Tel Aviv. It’s pouring rain in this place that seems so natural, and I’m sitting in the car with the doors locked.

The one-way road my car jolted up is old, cracked and full of potholes, the edges dodging in inches there, dodging out a bit there. Baby rivulets of water stream through pebbles rich in a scattering of colors, and blackstone chipped away by wind and rain. These rocks lining the road are the rocks Christ sat on, these the trees that shaded him, this the grass that muddied him. The disciples scattered their tired bodies among this light and shade, swatting bugs away from faces tanned by the sun.

The Judean foothills.

Tree branches are waving in the air, cutting a cool nip through my jeans. It smells clean here, fresh, like a Nebraska park when the hard rain stops, and sunlight given by the first shades of sapphire conquers the clouds spreading across the sky. Yet the wind still blows, branches reaching for the sky, striving for the ground, in a constant pattern of glory given by God above.

Ah! Here is the sun. Pouring warmth onto these chilly jeans, a million tiny raindrops glinting off dead grass, diamonds bathed in sunlight, sparks of beauty in a patch that has none of its own.

Note: I wrote out of my imagination, out of sheer astonishment the first day I was truly in the Holy Land, and it came alive to me. While Christ certainly toured around a lot, I find it doubtful that he ever truly sat on 'these' rocks. Since I liked the writing, I thought I'd keep it posted.

Was Peter Poor?

2007-02-09T10:53:00.000-08:00

A lot of scholars disagree with the popular idea that Peter was poor, but of course no one really knows. Some have postulated that they were 'middle class,' but that's unlikely, since 90% of the population was a peasant, and 10% were either elite or served the elite (bureaucrats, etc.) Merchants, often wealthy, and despised by peasants and aristocrats alike, were as close as you came to a middle class.

Keep in mind that: a) Peter and Andrew had a fishing business, instead of working for somebody else's business (but note there is no indication anyone worked for them), and b) their house was of a substantial size.

You may want to keep in mind that: a) John had some sort of connections with the upper priesthood, because he was allowed into the courtyard at Christ's trial; b) James and John were 'sons of Zebedee,' which would not be stated if 'Zebedee' weren't somewhat important; and c) Peter and Andrew were partners with James and John.

I'm skeptical of the idea that Peter was well-off. First, if you had much more money than the average person you were considered to be taking other peoples money, because (they thought) there was only so much money to be had in the world.

Second, being 'sons of Zebedee' indicated honor of some sort, which very possibly didn't go along with money. Ancient Jews based honor on family lineage, priestly associations, any work as a benefactor, etc. Money helped, but it was hardly the major factor it is today. Since John had connections with the high priest, and Capernaum wasn't a wealthy town, it makes sense to me that their family honor was derived from their priestly association somehow, not money.

Since only one room had something akin to a second room attached to it, the families didn't appear to have much money. Maybe it was just bigger because more families lived there. Maybe they had a chicken-raising business that demanded more space. Who knows.

To me, the biggest factor is that he was a partner in a business, v. being a hired laborer. Still, whereas 'partner' today indicates some status, 'partner' back then may have just been the fishing cooperative you were in. Hired laborers were just above slaves, so being above that wasn't exactly a measure of high status.

Plus, this may well not have been Peter's house. While evidence that it had Christian connotations from early centuries is substantial, evidence that it was Peter's house is limited to some graffiti markings that may be interpreted as 'Peter.' However, time has worn them down, and it's possible that wasn't the intention at all.

I'm also skeptical of the idea that Peter was particularly poor. Fishermen had more job stability than farmers - their income was never lost to a drought, excessive rain, or crop disease. Prices would rise, and ten fish would barter less wheat, but you wouldn't be left with no income and a sudden pile of debt.

Like I said, 90% of agrarian societies are peasants. Peasants are poor, yes. Often taxes and debt run very high, and little more than subsistence living is possible. But, was Peter poorer than the average peasant? Maybe, but I don't see any reason to think so.

The biggest argument would probably be that he was away from home so much, following Jesus, and had no chance to earn money. However, in a kinship environment like first-century Palestine, it's quite possible that lots of other people chipped in. It's also possible to make precisely the reverse argument out of that - he must have had a fair amount of money if he could be away from home so much, which renders the argument fairly powerless.

I feel like we exaggerate the idea that all the disciples were poor in order to emphasize that Christ can use anybody. Sure God can use anybody. You can grow up in Harlem, and God can use you in great ways. That doesn't mean that God needs you to be poor! Joanna, Mary Magdalene, Susannah and the 'other Mary' weren't. Matthew, as a tax collector, may not have been. Paul, moving forward a few years, probably wasn't. Nor were several of the prophets, moving back a few (hundred) years. God uses the poor, but he uses the wealthy too.

Last Updated: August 22, 2008

Peter's House

2007-02-08T10:54:00.000-08:00

Mark 1:29-34: As soon as they left the synagogue, they went with James and John to the home of Simon and Andrew. Simon's mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told Jesus about her. So he went to her, took her hand and helped her up. The fever left her and she began to wait on them.

That evening after sunset the people brought to Jesus all the sick and demon-possessed. The whole town gathered at the door, and Jesus healed many who had various diseases. He also drove out many demons, but he would not let the demons speak because they knew who he was.

I saw the ruins of Peter and Andrew's alleged house today, in Capernaum, but its early conversion to a church renders it impossible to picture it two thousand years ago. It was larger than most of the houses pictured directly below, but had the same basic structure - one or more courtyards surrounded by individual rooms. Whether it was actually Peter’s house is highly debatable.

All of the houses in Capernaum were built of the depressing black basalt in the picture (bleached grey by the sun, apparently). Most families in Capernaum lived in one room, which bordered a courtyard used by multiple families. Just behind the wall is the Sea of Galilee, and the stumpy hills in the background are on the far side of it.

This octagonal structure is the remnants of Peter's house, from the fifth century. It was converted to a house church hundreds of years earlier, then remodeled. The structure blocking it is a modern-day Franciscan church forbidden to tourists.

The house dubbed 'Peter's' had two courtyards, lucky for them. There were several 1-2 room houses opening onto it, one of which was probably used by him, his wife and any children they had (all in one bed, most likely). Another room would have been for Andrew and his family, and perhaps the others for extended family. There was a large common room joining the two courtyards.

There was a common kitchen, family room and storage room, used by all of the families, along the wall dividing the two courtyards. In the family room, picture a loom, a whole lot of baskets, pottery jars for storage, maybe some small storage sheds for larger items, fishing nets, some construction tools, a clay stove to keep you warm, etc. Then add in babies screaming, children fighting, ?straw? dollies with clothes woven on Mommy's loom, galloping across the dirt floor atop ?straw? donkeys, etc. The room was massive, 21' x 20', which far extends the family room of anyone I know. Maybe the closest you can get is imagining those old log cabins and prairie homes, with one main room, a bedroom, a kitchen and a yard.

In the kitchen was a table with benches, a clay stove and oven, a lot of baskets, cheap pottery jars for olive oil, wine, water, etc. Bedrooms had little more than the basics - maybe a closet, dresser, bed and table. Most clothes were homemade with wool shorn from the family sheep, which were not very plentiful in Galilee. There were probably a lot of hand-me-downs and mended patches.

It's hard to get a good photograph, since the Franciscans had some odd compulsion to build a church in the air over the venerated site. This floor gives an idea of the woman searching for her lost coin - a bit more difficult than hardwood or carpeting. The walls probably had oil lamps propped on a ledge.

The Courtyards
The side courtyard was where animals were kept - chickens, a goat or two for milk, a couple sheep for wool, etc. A couple rooms were off of this courtyard.

The main courtyard is where everything else happened. Children played tag, the garden was there, perhaps some trees/vines, an oven and a stove, maybe some herb plants if the family was fortunate, etc. Fig trees may have been popular, since they bore fruit about ten months a year. Cisterns in the ground held the year's grain, olive oil, etc. Note that this courtyard was substantially bigger than most in Capernaum, and others wouldn't have been so fortunate.

Peter, A Fisherman

2007-02-07T10:55:00.000-08:00

The coasts of the Sea of Galilee were smattered with fishing villages Jesus reached out to during his ministry. On this water Peter spent many of his working hours as a typical fishermen, struggling with the nets, storms and harbors on the sea described below. The sea where Jesus calmed the storm, created a miraculous catch of fish, and barbequed after his resurrection.

The Sea of Galilee

As Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. 'Come, follow me,' Jesus said, 'and I will make you fishers of men.' At once they left their nets and followed him.

When he had gone a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John in a boat, preparing their nets. Without delay he called them, and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men and followed him."

A picture of the type of fishing boat Peter and the others would have used. Albeit unlikely, for all we know Jesus sailed in this particular boat. It is dated from between the first century B.C. to the first century A.D.

Fishing back then was not sitting in your boat, fastening some bait on your line and casting it overboard. Three of the four main types of fishing required teamwork, and it’s no surprise that Zebedee owned the business, that James, John, Simon (i.e. Peter) and Andrew were partners, and that Zebedee had hired men.

Boats, though possibly owned by one person, were operated by crews, which often expanded during the high seasons to include day laborers, wandering workers that had no land. Zebedee’s extra men may have been hired for the autumn musht season, for example. At the end of the season these workers, who had likely been reduced to such work by being taxed off of their ancestral land, would move on to the next seasonal business, perhaps sowing crops. If they wished, they would return for the busy sardine season.

The Sea of Galilee, from the archway of the Greek Orthodox Church in Capernaum. The remains of the old boardwalk, with its tackle shops, and restaurants catering to the merchant clientele, are to my right, and I can still see the stone piers Peter and the others used, curving out into the water. In my imagination, there are nets, cleaned before dawn, hanging along the wooden posts lining the quay.

Fishermen often worked at night, when the fish couldn’t see the linen nets entrapping them. For example, the following Scripture has Simon washing his nets after a long night fishing.

[Jesus] saw at the water’s edge two boats, left there by the fishermen, who were washing their nets. …When [Jesus] had finished preaching, he said to Simon, "Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch."

Simon answered, "Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”

You might also be interested in my post on Peter's House.

Harbor Life
These violent storms endangered boats, and the Galilee has no sizeable natural harbors – only a few inlets. Until the Hellenistic period, which began with Alexander the Great’s conquest in 333 B.C., most fishermen probably dragged their boats to shore. Sometime after that they began building anchorages, defined by breakwaters made of piled rocks, to protect their boats. One or more piers probably extended from the breakwater, in order to load and unload both passengers and cargo.

These man-made harbors probably became the hub of the town, with boat repair shops, storage facilities, holding tanks for live fish and a general store of goods fishermen could barter their catch for, such as wheat, located on a nearby promenade.

Trading ships would have docked at many of the harbors, since overland travel was expensive, and the locals probably had stores for merchants to purchase local and regional goods they would trade on their way up and down the Jordan River.

Nearby, perhaps at the end of the promenade, would have been the boat repair yard, strewn with salvaged wood from defunct boats, tools, ropes and the like. The Jesus Boat, for example, was patched with at least eleven different kinds of wood.

After the winter storm season was over, there was likely a community effort to repair the breakwaters, perhaps by refilling spaces left by smaller stones stuffed between the rocks that had floated out to sea, or by plucking out trapped and rotting sea creatures. Smaller maintenance was probably required as well, on a continual basis.

These storms caused much emotional and financial fear in the hearts of fishermen and their families. In a society where subsistence living was the norm, there wouldn’t have been much extra lying around for boat repair, and women whose male guardians died were vulnerable to prostitution for an income.

You might also be interested in my post on Daily Life in Capernaum.