Israel 6. Bethlehem, Abraham's Tent, Garden of Gethsemane, and more.

Our sunset vista from the Mount of Olives where we could look across the narrow Kidron valley and view the city of Jerusalem, brought with it the sense that we had “arrived.”  This was it—in terms of our faith tradition,the home of the patriarchs, the holy city that we’ve heard about all our lives, the place of Jesus death, burial, and resurrection—this was the place, and it sprawled out before us.  Somehow, it seemed like we were coming home.

Our bus carried us across the valley and to our Hotel not far from the Old City.  We were tired.  It had been a full day, and one that ended on an emotional high note.  Now it was time for dinner and rest.  We would be here for the next three days and nights.  We felt safe and secure as we laid down for the night, ready to continue our adventures in the morning.

                            An Orthodox Jew pushing a stroller.

After an awesome breakfast at our hotel, we piled into the bus and headed out.  Immediately we saw orthodox Jews on the street.  They looked and dressed a lot like Amish, and so we felt right at home.   We were headed for Bethlehem as our first stop for the day.  It is not far away, only six miles south of Jerusalem.  It’s the place where Jesus was born.  Remember that Joseph and Mary were required to travel there to register during the census of their day.  The book of Luke records it in Chapter 2, “And Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the town of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David,  to be registered with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child."  For Mary and Joseph, it was a journey of nearly eighty miles from their home town of Nazareth.

Today, Bethlehem is under the control of the Palestinian Authority.  In order for us to visit the city, we needed to pass through security in the twenty-five foot high wall that surrounds the Palestinian area known as the West Bank.  (The West Bank is so named because it borders the west bank of the Jordan River.)  Our Jewish guide could not go with us into this area.   We were met by a Palestinian Christian guide named Johnny for this part of the tour.

We were here to visit the traditional (and possibly authentic) site of Jesus’ birth.  The Church of the Nativity is built over the cave that is believed to have been a stable, and the very place of the nativity.  The Church of the Nativity has a lengthy history, and has been rebuilt a number of times.  Large and ornate, today the church building is administered jointly by Greek Orthodox, Roman Catholic, and Armenian Apostolic authorities.

In the lower parts of the building is a grotto, or cave.  There were so many people in that area that we weren’t able to get right up to it, but there it was before us, a cave hewn out of the rocks, a likely place where Jesus might have been born.

The traditional site of Jesus’ birth.

Our next stop in Bethlehem was an Olive wood store owned by Palestinian Christians.  There are several of these in the city.  The articles of Olive wood were beautiful and expensive.  Since my good wife likes manger scenes, we were drawn to a carved and detailed one that looked interesting and attractive.  It was about nine inches tall and twelve inches wide.  I carefully turned it over to look for the price tag.  I thought it read 220 dollars, but that was a little more than we wanted to spend.  Immediately there was a store employee at our sides, explaining that we could get a discount today.  Instead of $2200.00 (!) dollars, we could get it for only $1800.00 shipped to our home.   Whoa, we were seeing the decimal point at the wrong place.  I slowly took my hands from the piece, shook my head no, and walked to the area of tiny displays.  No doubt these items were worth the money, but too rich for our blood.

We left Bethlehem then, and made our return through the security point.  There is no question about how much the Israelis control this area.  Armed soldiers were all around.

A note about the population of Bethlehem today:  Figures vary, but there are roughly 28,000 people living in Bethlehem.  They are nearly all Palestinian, with about one-third Christian and two-thirds Muslim.  Historians believe that in Jesus’ day, it was a small town of only 300 to 1000 people.

Next on the agenda was a visit to “Genesis Land” in the Judean wilderness east of Jerusalem.  At this location we met Abraham and his servant Eliezer.  In the first building, we were “trained” to ride camels, and given a license to ride camels professionally.  It was all in fun, and Eliezer our guide spoke excellent English, and entertained us well.  Then it was time for the “bucket list” camel ride to Abraham’s tent where we would enjoy our lunch.  A string of camels were tied outside, laying on their stomachs and we were invited to get on them.  This was the moment I had been waiting for.  Juanita and I picked out a lovely camel, slid into the saddle, and waited for Eliezer to get the camel to stand up.   We were instructed to lean way back, because a camel’s rump comes up first.  This way we would not be thrown off the front.  Actually, camels have a three-stage movement to get to their feet.  They have a strange arrangement of bones and joints.  First the rump comes halfway up, then the front all the way, and finally the rump all the way.  By this time you feel like the ground is far below.  Now it was time to amble, and rock-and-roll our way to Abraham’s tent.  We learned that riding a camel is not very comfortable, with its rough and rocking gait.

This is scary!!

There now, that wasn't so bad!

Wes and Nancy, with the Judean wilderness in the background.

At the large tent we were welcomed by a man who looked like father Abraham himself.  It was a bit disconcerting to hear his distinctive British accent, but he was a good actor, and played the part well.  We were served a delicious meal of pita bread with humus and many finely chopped and seasoned vegetables.  The food was delicious!  Thanks, Abe!  And thank you for the camel ride!

Onward then, back to Jerusalem and the Garden of Gethsemane.  The garden is near the base of the Mount of Olives, and is landscaped to perfection.  Large, ancient olive trees are growing there, and the oldest ones are around nine hundred years old.  Right next to the Garden stands the large Basilica of Agony, also known as the Church of all Nations.  It was completed in 1924 with donations from many different countries, and built to honor our suffering Savior.   The building was dimly lit inside, and it was a moment to pause and reflect on the agony that Jesus experienced as he prayed in this place.  There is a large exposed rock surface rising from the floor of the sanctuary, and people are invited to gather around it, to kneel over it, and offer prayers.  According to tradition, this is the Holy Rock of Agony.  Who knows.

The Garden of Gethsemane

                          

                    The Rock of Agony in the Basilica of Agony

That was the last event of our day, and we  headed back to our Hotel then for another delicious buffet-style meal of mid-eastern food.   Following that, we had some time to relax together in the very large hotel lobby, chatting about the events of the day, emailing back home, glancing through our photos, and calling Mom to tell her all about our experiences.  Thanks again, Mom, if it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be enjoying this fantastic journey!  Until the next time.  So long.

Israel 5. The Dead Sea, Masada, Ein Gedi, Qumran Caves, Jerusalem

When I try to pry memories from my childhood about real places in the world that truly fascinated me, the Dead Sea floats to the surface along with several other locations.  Why the Dead Sea?  It’s water that you can’t sink in.  This had great appeal to me as a non-swimming child.  Here would be an opportunity to get into deep water without drowning.  I was terribly afraid of water—or at least of drowning in it.  Dad could not swim either, but he was fond of explaining why.  “My mother always told me not to go near water until I could swim.”  (Huh!?)

It sort of made sense.   But hearing about the Dead Sea made room for possibilities.  Only one problem.  It was on the other side of the world.  For a poor country boy it could only be a dream, but one could imagine it.   I could picture myself laying back in the water and gazing at an azure blue sky, listening to the gently lapping water, smelling and tasting the salt in the air, exhilarating in the feeling of weightlessness.  But as well as it could be imagined, it seemed impossible that it would ever happen.  Sort of like flying with wings strapped onto my arms—another boyhood dream—and one that could never happen.

But…

We were here!  We were really at the Dead Sea.  I still cannot believe that only two of us ten went into the water.  How could anyone NOT go in?  I don’t know.  But for the two of us who dared to face the “slimy water” and wade out into its depths until the buoyancy lifted our feet from the bottom, it was all a child could dream of.  

It was morning now, about 8 AM, and November.  But at this location on the earth—a place that can be unbearably hot in the summer—November was the perfect time for a swim.

After eating our breakfast, Gene and I donned our trunks and took the quarter-mile hike to the beach.  The water was bluer than I had imagined it could be.  Amazingly blue.  The beach was white with salt, and soft to the feet.  The air was warm and perfect for a dip.  The water was pleasant and cool, not at all requiring the slow agonizing wade that one takes to get into the cold waters of the Great Lakes.  Of course, in the Great Lakes, the best way to get into the water is to avoid the slow cringing walk, by running madly and plunging wildly into the frigid waves.  Never mind the crazy people who actually chop a hole in ice and go for polar bear swims.  That, in my mind, is a display of insanity.

The Dead Sea, on the hand, was cool, yet inviting.  And amazing clear.  I’ve never been to the Bahamas, but this was as near to the pictures as any place could be.  The water was instantly welcoming to an old grown-up boy who had dreamt of this moment for over 50 years.  We waded out until we were in mid-chest depth, and at that level we became suspended.  It was magical.  It was marvelous.  It was nearly miraculous.   And yes, it felt slimy, although slippery is a word that I would rather use to describe it.  

Floating vertically, I slowly pulled up my legs and gently laid back, and it was true.  The childhood dream was true.  Crystalline waters, azure blue sky, tiny whispering waves tickling my ears, a feeling of weightlessness.   As if the trip to Israel was not gift enough, this moment was worth the wait.

I could have stayed here for a long time.  It was one of the most pleasant feelings to lay back and totally relax, defying the gravitational forces that would otherwise cause a body to disappear beneath the surface.  This was living.  I could understand why old King Herod had come to this place.  A King can have anything he wants.  Right?  What more could he want than this?

The water was about four feet deep here.   We couldn't walk out any further without being lifted from our feet.  My brother Gene on the right.  I'm on the left.

All too soon, we knew our time had come to return to the hotel and prepare for the day ahead.  So we showered off the salt water at a fresh water shower on the beach and walked back to the hotel.  

   *      *      *

Our next event for the day was a visit to Masada.  This was an exciting place to visit for some of the family.  However, for me, I could have skipped it and not felt cheated.  This hilltop fortress is not mentioned in the Bible, but it was developed in this harsh wilderness place by none other than the infamous Herod the Great, who is mentioned in the Bible.  He built a palace complex on this very steep, inaccessible hilltop of twenty-three acres, and circled the plateau with a thick wall that he believed to be impenetrable.  It was a place where he could go to protect himself from enemies, or to go for relaxation from the hustle and bustle of Kingly life.

We rode a cable car to get to the top, and as much as I don’t trust those very thin wires to carry an enormous amount of weight, we made it safely.  From the top, one could look out over the Judean wilderness to the west, and the Dead Sea to the east.  You have to hand it to Herod, he knew how to accomplish a great feat in the construction of this place.  It makes one wonder how many lives were lost during the construction of the walls on this high plateau that dropped almost vertically on all sides.   

On the top, the quantity of walls, rooms, and remains of buildings is remarkable.  One such room housed a bath area that was heated by steam coming through tiles—a virtual sauna for a king who spared himself no luxury.   I could imagine the old boy laying there soaking in the steam while servants kept the fire stoked and concubines tended to his every whim.

The most notable historical fact about Masada is how a group of Jewish Zealots sequestered themselves here as part of the revolt against the Romans around 70 AD.  Herod had died a couple years after Jesus was born (yes, this was the same Herod that had tried to kill baby Jesus), and following his death, the land that he had ruled was divided between three of his surviving sons—that is, the ones he had not executed.  None of them had the power or control of their evil father.

Taxation under Herod the Great had been heavy.  The people of Judea, Samaria and Galilee were ready for a break.   Naturally, as Jews, they wanted self rule.  But Rome owned the land, and although they allowed the Herod family to reign, it was by Roman rules.  It took a few years to build up to the Jewish revolt, but it happened.  And when it did, Jerusalem was destroyed—as well as the temple—just as Jesus had predicted.

But here at Masada, the final Jewish hold-out took place.  Right here where we were standing, the remaining free Jews had stockpiled provisions and became a thorn-in-the-flesh to the Romans.  Not that they were going anywhere, or posed any threat to the Romans.  They simply were not going to be allowed to defy Roman rule like this.

Masada as seen from our bus.

At the top of Masada

Some historians put the number at nearly 1000 people.  Others have serious doubts about that, and even put the number at less than one hundred.  No one knows for sure.  What is known is that the Romans used Jewish slaves to build a siege ramp up to the top.  Up this ramp they rolled a huge framework that contained a pendulum-type battering ram that was used to breach the wall.  When they finally broke through and went in to conquer the remaining Jews, all they found were bodies.  The Jews had killed themselves rather than becoming slaves.    

   *     *     *

Leaving Masada, we traveled north and made a stop at Ein Gedi.  This was more to my liking.  Ein Gedi is an oasis in the desert fed by several large springs year around that become streams flowing rapidly down steep descents.  It was the end of the dry season when we visited, yet the waters flowed abundantly.  This, in my mind, was precisely the type of water-flow the Israelites may have experienced when Moses struck the rock.

Stream flowing from a spring at Ein Gedi

In 1 Samuel 23:29 to 24:4 we read how David and his men came to this area to hide from Saul and three thousand of his men.  It is easy to see why David came here.  It is a terribly rugged place.  Fresh meat and fresh water were readily available year around.  With an abundance of caves, ravines, and impossibly steep and jagged hills, it would take a miracle for Saul to find the world’s greatest guerilla fighter and his men.   The miracle wouldn’t come.   You know the rest of the story; or if you’ve forgotten, read it again.  

Our stop here was brief, and after putting our fingers in the water, observing a semi-wild herd of goat-like Ibex’s, and sighting the occasional Coney, (little animals that resemble the American woodchuck),  we loaded up for our next stop—the exhibit at the Qumran Caves.

The Qumran caves are important to both Jews and Christians alike.  It was here in 1947 where a Bedouin shepherd boy was the first to discover some scrolls contained in clay jars.  Because of the close proximity to the Dead Sea, the world has come to know these scrolls as the Dead Sea Scrolls. Much archaeological work over the course of many years has uncovered 972 fragments of the scrolls.  It is believed these copies of scriptures and other ancient writings were left hidden in the caves over 2000 years ago by a group of Jews called the Essenes.  Although there are other various theories about the origins of the scrolls, no one is arguing that these are by far the oldest copies of ancient manuscripts, including the entire book of Isaiah from beginning to end, written in Hebrew.

Now here is the exciting part:

No matter what scoffers say about our beloved Bible, about how it has been invented by men, filled with mistakes because of the many transcriptions, and changed many times to suit the whims of men; and how it cannot be considered accurate, and much less the Word of God; the Dead Sea Scrolls are proof of the accuracy of our modern translations.   When the Dead Sea scroll of Isaiah was studied, it was word-for-word identical to today’s standard Hebrew Bible in more than ninety-five percent of the text.  The remaining small percent of variation consisted primarily of spelling alterations and “slips of pens.”  There were no major doctrinal differences between the current Hebrew book of Isaiah and the Qumran texts.  

Jars that contained the Dead Sea Scrolls

I learned these facts about the book of Isaiah from searching the internet.  Maybe they told us these things when we visited the site.  I don’t remember.   What is important to me, and what bolsters my confidence in the accuracy of the Bible, is the fact that these scriptures have not been changed for thousands of years!  God’s word will be preserved no matter what.  This is enough of a miracle for me.

                                        *          *          *

  Jerusalem.

Dear God, I’ve waited all my life for this moment.  We’ve been in Israel for several days and still haven’t gotten there.   We’ve seen a lot of things, and visited exciting places, but these are quickly paling when considering the next stop on our pilgrimage.   

We leave the Qumran caves and wind north, heading toward “home”.   Strange as it is to voice it, and stranger still the thought of experiencing it, anticipation is suddenly hitting with a before-unknown force.   Jerusalem!  The Jerusalem of the Bible!  The Jerusalem that Jesus loved so much.  The Jerusalem that Dad called his second home.  Jerusalem, the most sacred place on earth for Jews and Christians alike.  In a very short time we will be in Jerusalem.  The thought passes deliciously through the mind, the word rolls sweetly from the tongue.  Jerusalem.

We round the corner at Jericho and head west on the winding road that climbs ever upward to the Mountain of Zion.  It is a nicely paved road, and we move comfortably onward in our chariot-of-luxury through the dry and rugged Judean hills.   One can easily imagine the many thousands of Jews who regularly walked this path to celebrate the required feasts in Jerusalem.   One can see the likely places where bandits and robbers might have hidden themselves among the desert hills and ravines, waiting for the lone traveler.  It is not difficult to understand why this is the road that Jesus chose for the parable of the Good Samaritan.    

Onward we climb.  Jerusalem is built on Mount Zion, and it is not a terribly high mountain as we think of it, but it is still quite an elevation change from the Dead Sea at 1388 feet below sea level to Jerusalem at 2577 feet above sea level—a difference of more than 3900 feet.  

The distance isn’t great—only 15.7 miles between Jericho and Jerusalem.  It is late afternoon by now, the sky clear, and a lowering sun hinting of nightfall in about an hour.  Our guide, as always, is very much in tune with the surroundings and the people on the bus.  As we near the city, he pops a CD into the player, and the song “Jerusalem” begins filling the bus with sound.  Yes, the same “Jerusalem” that we listened to several weeks before embarking on this journey.  The hair is standing up on my arms now, my eyes are peeled straight ahead, straining to get the first glimpse, and suddenly it gets dark!  Completely dark—except for the lights lining the Mt. Scopus Tunnel.  It seems like a long tunnel, and although I didn’t know it then, we were traveling through the Mount of Olives.   The song reaches its final glorious crescendo at the very moment when we burst from the tunnel.  There before us in all its glory is the old city of Jerusalem.  The bus full of people immediately burst into cheers and applause, and I get all choked up.  This is the climax of the trip.  Arrival in Jerusalem!  I wonder if the Jews of Jesus day felt this way when Jerusalem came into sight.  No doubt they experienced this mystical exhilaration to a much greater degree than I.

Now I understand what Dad meant when he said he always felt like he was coming home when he came to this place.  It’s a mystery, really, and one cannot explain the emotion that overtakes the soul when arriving in Jerusalem.  It is a spiritual experience.  Yet, the intellectual part of my being would try to explain it away.  It is just another place—God is everywhere.  And that is true.  Contrary to many deeply religious people, I have never believed that one place is more holy or sacred than another, but neither can I explain what happens when one arrives in Jerusalem.  I have to admit, it almost seems that I have arrived on holy ground.

Our bus winds its way up onto the Mount of Olives then, and parks at a place where we can walk out to a wall and feast our eyes.  Looking out over the many thousands of Jewish graves, and across the Kidron Valley, we gaze at the city.  From our vantage point, it is a sight to behold.  The great orange ball in the sky is sinking low, and gently coming to rest on the profiles of the many stone buildings.  It is not possible to ask for a better closing to a day that begins with the Dead Sea and ends with a sun setting on Zion.

Jerusalem at sunset from the Mount of Olives

Table Auction

Table auction.  It’s not what it sounds like.   A few years ago, we didn’t know what it was either, but after learning about it, we decided to have one.  And just to be clear about it, no tables are sold at a table auction.

Today, as I write this, it is November 10, 2015.  This is a significant date for our family.  Exactly twenty-five years ago we moved into a large old farmhouse on Kansas Road on November 10.  Five years ago we spent our first night in our current home on November 10.

For twenty years, from 1990 to 2010, our family enjoyed the mini-farm on Kansas Road, but after our children were out of the house, the joy sort of left the place.  It was a wonderful piece of real estate on which to raise our children, and God surely saw to it that we landed there.  That’s another story.  But in 2010, our current home came up for sale, and we felt like this would be the place for empty nesters to settle into for a while.  So we put a for sale sign out by the road in front of the farm on Kansas Road.

Our former home on Kansas Road.

Right away, there was interest from several Amish families.  Five-plus acres, two large sheds, a nice heated steel building, a three-stall garage with a shop, and a large farmhouse—this was perfect for an Amish family.  On top of it, there was free natural gas—a big plus.  We showed the place a number of times, but weren’t getting offers that matched our asking price, so I went to talk with an Amish neighbor about it.  His name is Hammer Dan, and he has a keen interest in land sales and auctions.  We discussed my asking price, and he offered advice along with loaning me his large file of home sales in the area.  As we talked, he wondered out loud if I had given any consideration to a table auction.

A what?  A table auction.  He went on to explain.  A table auction is an inexpensive and effective way to sell a property.  No auctioneer or real  estate agency fees are involved.  All it takes is several interested parties who are willing to sit around a table, pass a tablet around the circle, and write in their bids.   As the owner, I would also sit at the table, and confirm the bids.  After talking with all the interested parties, and learning that they would welcome this kind of sale, we decided to do it.  So I asked Hammer Dan if he would consider convening the auction, and he agreed to do it.

So that’s what we did.  We set a date for thirty days later, and got the word out to all interested parties.  During that time, there were a couple more Amish families who came to look.  On the appointed day, we set up a table in the garage, and at the request of Hammer Dan, we also set up a table for hats.  Yes, hats.  Just in case you never noticed, Amish men are required to wear hats in public.  Maybe it never occurred to you to wonder about this.  It is part of their rules, but I haven’t figured out why.  When entering a house or building, they may take their hats off.  So that’s why we needed a table for hats.  We also had a table set up with water and cups.  This was appreciated.  Nerves were on edge—my own included—and having a cup of water was good way to settle them.

At the appointed time, we gathered around the table.  Dan began the proceedings by explaining the rules of the auction, and a description of the property.  He was professional about it, and I was impressed.  I sat there beside him, shaking in my boots, and hoping we’d get what we needed.  The biggest surprise was a neighbor up the road who had been through the house with his wife, but hadn’t shown much interest.  He came to the table too.  Along with him sat two other neighbors—a father and son-in-law who had a keen interest in the place, but wouldn’t offer enough to get it.  And then, there was a young man from down near Mt Hope.  He and his wife wanted it too.

The bidding began.  A yellow tablet started around the table.  Bidder one and his son-in-law were first.  They wrote down their name and the amount they were offering.  Bidders two and three upped the bid.  It came back to me and Hammer Dan.  All good.  So we started the next round.  Bidder one upped it.  Bidder two needed a break to confer with his wife.  (At the beginning, during announcements, we had mentioned that if a break was needed, we would allow it.)   Bidder two came back in, sat down, and upped the bid.  Bidder three looked at it and smiled.  He was out.   So the tablet went back to bidder one.  He hesitated, looking sweaty and nervous, but took the pen and wrote on the line.  Back to bidder two.

He looked at the tablet, wrote in his bid, and handed it to  me and Hammer Dan.  Seeing the amount, I felt relieved, and honestly, surprised.  The bid was now where I could accept it.  Back to bidder one.  He and his son-in-law whispered to each other, and after a long pause, he took the pen and wrote with it.  Back to bidder two.  He looked at the tablet, and passed it to me.  At this point, I thought bidder one was the winner.  But not so.  Bidder one’s mark on the tablet was a smiley face, and bidder two’s last bid took it.  The sale was over, and we were pleased.  Of course, not everyone could walk away happy, but there was a sense of peace about the whole thing.  Even though we didn’t quite get our original asking price, there were no fees involved, so it all turned out okay.

And that is a “table auction.”  For us, it worked out fine, because we were in the heart of an Amish community with a desirable property.  We feel blessed knowing that our former property is being enjoyed by a young Amish family who takes good care of it.  May they have many years happiness, and raise lots of cute little children in the old farmhouse on Kansas Road.

From Kidron, Ohio, we hope you have a wonderful weekend.  So long.

Israel 4. From Nazareth to the Dead Sea

Our third day in Israel began again from our hotel in Tiberias on the southern shore of the Sea of Galilee.  We headed southwesterly, with Nazareth as our destination.  On the way to Nazareth the road lead through Cana.  You remember Jesus’ first miracle?  Sure you do.  At a wedding, He turned water into wine.  And guess what!  As we passed through Cana, there to our left was a store named “Cana Wedding Wine, The First Miracle Sovner Store” - a fine example of using an event that took place nearly 2000 years ago, to sell souvenirs.  (Sovner is how it was spelled.)

Nazareth is a hilly, bustling city today.  Roughly seventy thousand people live there, and the streets are crowded.  The population is mostly Palestinian Arab, with a breakdown of about 69% Muslim, nearly 31% Christian, and a tiny Jewish contingent.  

Historical evidence suggests that Nazareth, in Jesus day, was a tiny hamlet of perhaps 30 to 50 families, tucked away in a valley between the Galilean hills.  They were a rugged and poor people, who spoke with an accent different than their fellow Jews only 63 miles to the south in Jerusalem.  It seems that the hamlet had a reputation of sorts, which would explain why Nathaniel wondered out loud how anything good could come from Nazareth.  But isn’t that just the way God works?  He’s done it so many times in history - making an improbable or impossible situation turn into something amazing.  Think about Noah, Moses, Joseph, David, Daniel, and so many more, and now Jesus, born into poverty and growing up in the “West-Virginia” of Israel.

The purpose for our visit was to participate in a guided tour of an open air museum depicting life in Nazareth in the time of Jesus.  This was one of the places that Dad wanted to visit, but never had the opportunity.  It was developed in the 1990’s, several years after he and Mom had lived there.

Nazareth Village sits on a hillside surrounded by the city.  Stepping into it instantly takes a person back about 2000 years.  Dressed in clothes of the period, a little smiling boy clings to a swing, while behind him a man tends his sheep.  Further along the path a wine press is carved into the rock. There is a vineyard, olive grove, small fields that had been harvested, a lookout tower, and a small settlement.  Included in the settlement were a carpenter shop with a man plying his trade, and then a home where a woman sat spinning yarn from wool that had been dyed in many natural colors.  One large stone building that would have been shared by the community, housed a donkey-powered turnstile for crushing olives, and a press for squeezing the oil.  A bit further, we gathered together in the synagogue for additional explanations of community life.  There were other stone buildings and dwellings to walk through, before the tour ended in a store where all the money-laden tourists could peruse a large array of books, olive wood products, and souvenirs of every description.   

Donkey pushing the turnstile, crushing olives.

Shepherd

Women spinning yarn

Leaving Nazareth we wound our way right back past Mt Tabor.  Once again, I could not take my eyes from it.  It rises so distinctly from the plains, and stands nearly alone like a monument.  Passing by it, we continued to the southern tip of the Sea of Galilee where the Jordan River leaves the sea to continue its winding path south to the Dead Sea.  The Jordan itself was our destination, because there were a number of people in our group who wanted to be baptized.

For several months I thought I would be in that number.  Not that I felt a need to be baptized again, but I may never be here again, and it just seemed like it would be awesome to experience baptism in the Jordan - the river where John-the-Baptist had baptized so many people, including Jesus.  

I didn’t do it though.  First, there was a requirement to rent a white robe for 10 dollars (a minor stumbling block), but then the location was so commercialized.  I should have expected that.  Above the baptism site there was a plaza for purchasing food and souvenirs, a public restroom that required payment to use, and people everywhere.  The surroundings simply squelched the desire I had for an experience that I had hoped might be meaningful.  Bless the hearts of the many people who had the fortitude to ignore all the distractions, and go for the plunge.  

Baptismal area of the Jordan River

We traveled south then, to Bet She’an where lies the ruins of the first century Roman city of Scythopolis, located at the juncture of the Jezreel Valley and the Jordan River Valley.  If I were an archaeologist or historian, this would be the mother of all digs - the quintessential dream come true.  

I am neither.  However, the massive amounts of history and ruins in this place is amazing even to the novice.  Certainly one could spend many days combing through the ruins of what was once a bustling city.  

The Tel is in the background - once the site of a fortified city.

Scythopolis was the capital of ten cities known as Decapolis, and the only one on the west side of the Jordan River.  The most striking thing about this location is the hill.  It is shaped conically, like a volcano, and flat on top, making it the perfect location for a fortress city.  This hill is referred to as Tel Bet She’an, and many layers of civilization have been uncovered on the top.

In the days of King Saul, this land was controlled by the Philistines.  It was on Mt Gilboa, just to the west of Bet She’an, where Saul and his sons lost the battle to the Philistines, and Saul took his own life as he was about to be killed.   Read about it in I Samuel 31:1-13.  Their bodies were brought here to the Tel of Bet She’an by the Philistines, and hung on the city gates.  

Today the modern city of Bet She’an lies just to the south of the ruins, and is home to around fifteen thousand people. It is surrounded by thousands of acres of excellent crop land.  It’s worth going to ‘google images’ to see pictures of the Tel, and to get an aerial view of the city and surrounding land.

So much to see, but it was time to move south to the Dead Sea.  This is one place that strikes at the imagination of children and adults alike.  The one place in the world where the water is so salty that it is impossible to sink.  This was on my bucket list for Israel - Israel being at the top of the list, and floating in the Dead Sea in the sub-list.  That, and riding a camel.   

I’d like to include here a few lines I sent to my brothers as we made plans for the Israel trip.  It describes my interest in the Dead Sea.

Dear Family,

There is one Dead Sea.  On this great earth, there is only one.  Having already described my desire to ride a camel, I now wish to describe my  yearnings to float in the Dead Sea.

Some of you are not sure you want to go into the water of the Dead Sea.  I can scarcely comprehend this.  Think of it.  Nearly everything on earth comes in multiples, and nearly everything is repeated over and over all over the world.  Just look at McDonald's and Walmart.  But there is only one Dead Sea.  We can find a pool almost anywhere to go for a refreshing swim.  We can go east or west and ride the waves of the amazing oceans.  But there is only. one. Dead. Sea.  So for something to think about, here is a very incomplete list of things unique about the Dead Sea.

1) The salt content in this one-of-a-kind sea is nine to ten times greater than that of the oceans.

2) The salt content is so great that the human body cannot sink in this body of water.  In other words, even if you can't swim, you cannot drown in this sea - unless someone is "helping" you.  Based on experiences of my young childhood, I will keep a distance between myself and my older brothers.

3) The surface of the water is 1388 feet below sea level, making it the lowest spot on earth. If we want to get lower than that, we have to actually get in the water.  

4) It is one of the oldest recorded locations for a health resort.  Herod the Great was known to visit this place for the health benefits, but don't get your hopes up, he died anyway.

5) The benefits of this water to one's largest organ, namely the skin, are amazing.   Do you know that salt water tightens the skin?  And the saltier the better?   At our advanced ages, going for a dip in the Dead Sea seems like a no-brainer.  The only catch though, is that they don't recommend putting your head under water, and that's where most of the wrinkles seem to be.   There are however, healing lotions that are derived from the Dead Sea, that can be used on any part of the body.

So, will I be going for a dip in the Dead Sea?   ARE YOU KIDDING?   OF COURSE I WILL!  I've heard from someone who put his wee little fingers in the water, that it is "slimy".  Really?  That's the salt and minerals going to work on the skin.  Soap is slimy too, but we use it every day, and enjoy it.   I can think of other examples, but it's not necessary to waste any more time mentioning them.  This may be our one chance to experience the Dead Sea, and I for one am going in.

From the other brother.

* * *

And now here we were, driving along the coast of the Dead Sea.  Darkness was approaching as we pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, after driving through many miles of dry desert wilderness.  The float would have to wait until the morning.  But wait!  The hotel had a pool room.  Lo and behold, it had an indoor pool of Dead Sea water.  So some of us went in.  It was almost scary.  One thing for sure you don’t want to do is get this water into your eyes.  It is so potent, that your eyes will melt and slide right down your face.  No, just kidding!!  But they say it does give a very painful burning sensation.  I’ll take their word for it.  There is a technique to relaxing in the water without splashing.  You just slowly sit down and let your legs bob to the surface.   Now straighten out your body and lay your head back, and you are suspended on a soft bed of water.  What an amazing feeling!  But in the morning we would experience the sea itself.  Can hardly wait.  Off to bed.  See you in the morning.

We’ll pick it up right here next week, friends, and we’ll go for a dip in the Dead Sea.  So long.