back home. final post to come this weekend…
We’ve reached our final day in Jerusalem. We still have one more day to go, but it will be spent in outlying regions. So even though this isn’t the last day of the trip, it kind of feels like it. At least we used it to see some pretty amazing sites.
Though before any of that began, we had a worship service in the hotel. Oddly enough, this Sunday we were in our hotel’s bomb shelter. It made getting visitors difficult but the acoustics were unbelievable…
Ferrell gave the lesson this week, tying it into much of what we had seen over the previous two weeks, but focusing on the 24th chapter of the gospel of Matthew. The point made was that while we have seen much built – and much destroyed – over the millennia while in Israel, that Christ is the ultimate builder, and not of buildings, but of lives. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a man speak about the Lord with more sincerity than brother Jenkins and it’s been something else to listen to him help the Bible become “colorized” over the last two weeks.
Once services were over, the group loaded up on the bus and we made our way to the pinnacle of Jerusalem, the Temple Mount.
The Muslims only allows infidels (that would be non-Muslims) to ascend the Temple Mount until 10am, so we were somewhat rushed to get everything in. Though as usual, Elie saw to it that we saw and learned about everything he wanted us to.
Just getting into the Temple Mount complex is an effort in itself. Aside from the extended march you have to take up a make-shift platform that runs alongside the Western Wall (affording a unique vantage of the Wall, itself)…
…you have to go through a security station and metal detector. There is definitely a noticeable military presence in this city. Guns have long freaked me out, but after a couple of days of seeing the tips of guns pointing in every which direction, I’m beginning to become numb to the sight of them.
But moving on to the Temple Mount, itself…
The complex is much bigger than you imagine it. I don’t know the numbers off the top of my head, but I would say that the area is roughly the size of four football fields. Huge. And parked right in the middle of it all, the Dome of the Rock. (But we’ll get to that in a paragraph or two.)
Located on Mount Moriah (where Abraham took his son Isaac to be sacrificed), the first temple was first built by King Solomon, the son of David and Bathsheba, being completed in 966 BC after seven years of building. In 586, the Babylonians destroyed it and set into motion the ‘Babylonian Captivity’. The temple was rebuilt under the direction of Zerubbabel and dedicated in 515. As the centuries passed by, the temple fell into poor condition until the year 20 BC when Herod the Great, as part of his massive building projects in the Roman province of Judea, started work on a “refurbishment” of the temple complex, expanding its grounds significantly. Herod’s temple was destroyed – as clearly prophesied – in the year 70 AD. The site stood desolate until the 7th century AD when the Muslim Dome of the Rock was built atop Mount Moriah, and that gold-lined mosque has stood until today.
Any questions?
We began our walk around the complex in what was known as the Court of the Gentiles in Jesus’ day. The Temple Mount had, effectively, four tiers: the highest one contained the Holy of Holies where only the High Priest could enter, the second was the Court of the Priests, the third the Court of the Israelites (obviously, you had to be an Israelite to enter that area), and the fourth was for gentiles – basically ancient tourists. (Not much has changed, has it?) I had always imagined the Court of the Gentiles as being a small, overlooked area pushed off to the side. Oh, no. Probably 2/3rds of the mount is taken up by the Court of the Gentiles. It was in this area where the Greek tourists desired to see Jesus and besought Philip for an introduction (John 12).
After some more time atop the complex we circled around to the highest level where the Dome of the Rock is located. Only Muslims are allowed to enter the Dome, but we were able to get as close to the exterior as we wanted. Muslims believe that Mount Moriah not only was the location of the near-sacrifice of Isaac, but also from where Mohammed ascended to Heaven. Interestingly enough, there is another spot, just some thirty yards from the Dome, called the Dome of the Spirit, where some scholars believe the Holy of Holies actually resided. This location gets its credence from the fact that it aligns perfectly with the eastern Beautiful Gate, which the High Priest was to be able to see from the Holy of Holies.
From there, we spent the rest of the morning in the Jewish corner. We saw some 1st century houses (much bigger than you would have thought) that have recently been excavated. They were interesting to see, but I’m not sure there’s much that I can say about them in a blog that would really make them sparkle.
But while in the Jewish quarter I did make a purchase. (It looks like Erin has already ridiculed me for it.) One of the few things that I knew I wanted to purchase while over here was a Hebrew Tanakh – the Old Testament to Christians. It took some doing, but I finally found a bookstore that sold them. They also had Hebrew/English Tanakhs, so I bought one of those, as well. It’s divided into three segments: the law, the writings, and the prophets. There are commentaries in this one in English, so I’m hopeful that I will be able to glean some additional insight into the original languages. So much of what was written in the Hebrew and Greek of the Bible has to be ruined in order to get it into English, as the differences are just so great between the languages.
So get off my back with the lack of even a fundamental knowledge of Hebrew!
Our final action from within the Old City of Jerusalem was to have a proper visit to the Western Wall. As you know, Erin and I had come on our own to the Wall two nights ago to experience the beginning of Sabbath. But this time, there were only a few Jews praying at the Wall. The rest of the prayer plaza was filled with “white hats”. Men must have their head covered to enter the prayer area, so for those who don’t bring anything with them, white yarmulkes are supplied at the entrance. You can pretty much tell who isn’t actually a Jew by whether or not they’re wearing these small, round pieces of silk.
The Western Wall is the remaining portion of that expansion undertaken by Herod the Great. While Jews can go to the top of the Temple Mount, very few are willing to do so out of a fear that they might step on holy ground. Therefore, to most Jews the Western Wall is as close to where the Holy of Holies once stood as they can get. To them, it is the most sacred spot on earth.
The Western Wall is often referred to as the Wailing Wall. When European pilgrims visited the site in the last few centuries they observed the devout Jews praying at the Wall with a mannerism that resembled (and sometimes actually was) excessive sobbing, or… wailing. Though few Jews would, themselves, refer to it as the Wailing Wall. That would be a bit akin to Texans referring to “the Alamo” as “that place where the Mexicans whooped us”.
Just as a point of comparison so that you can see how many more Jews show up at the Wall on Sabbath as opposed to any of the other six nights of the week, I took this picture Of the Wall from the same location as the one Erin took on the Sabbath, only two nights later. Noticeable smaller crowd.
Once you get close to the wall you can see small pieces of paper shoved into the cracks between the stones. These are prayers that have been written down. It’s interesting that when these prayers are cleaned out that they aren’t thrown away. Since they’ve been incorporated into the wall, they are considered holy and therefore are buried in a cemetery.
I must say, the Western Wall is one of the more profound places I’ve ever been to. Sites of historical significance are a dime a dozen around the globe, but every do often you come across one that still manages to meet its weight with regard to modern relevance. The Western Wall is one of them.
Our next stop was just outside the southern end of the Temple Mount, to the steps that once led up into the Court of the Gentiles. It was from these steps that Jesus would have spent some time teaching in front of the Pharisees and other assorted listeners.
From the southwest corner of Herod’s wall, a right-hand turn to the north confronts one with significant ruins from the temple’s destruction at the hands of the Romans in 70 AD. The indention in the ground level is from where a giant arch fell to the ground.
To round out the day we stopped by the Shrine of the Book museum and its scale of model of 1st century Jerusalem.
The Shrine of the Book museum contains actual fragments of the Dead Sea scrolls, along with the Aleppo codex. Unfortunately, no photography is allowed inside the museum so I don’t have any pictures to show you. But suffice it say that laying eyes directly on some of the most important manuscripts of all-time was really something.
The outdoor model was also something to behold. Spanning some 20 yards square, it is a massive and extremely detailed recreation of what the city of Jerusalem would have looked like during the reign of Herod the Great. Here is the view of Jerusalem facing west:
And with that, it was back to the hotel and the conclusion of our final full day in Israel. Tomorrow evening we leave for the States. It’s definitely coming as a shock how quickly we went from thinking how great it was to have so many days left on the trip to now realizing that they’ve all come and gone somehow without anyone apparently realizing it.
zechariah 9:9… day twelve
With three days remaining until we leave for home, we’re clearly starting to run up the “name brand sites” tally. There have been quite a few times over the last two weeks when we’ve stopped somewhere and, while unloading from the bus, there has been more than one person asking just where it was we were going. Generally, a brief mention of some well-known story from the Bible will bring to mind the location we’re at. Well, that’s not the case here in Jerusalem. Everyone knows what “Garden of Gethsemane” means. And most people also seem to know what “Bethlehem” means.
We started the day off from the top of the Mount of Olives. All of Ferrell’s trips have a group photo taken with Jerusalem in the background from this spot, and this one was no exception. The only problem is the fact that, since it’s 9:30 in the morning and we’re facing east, the sun is shining right down on us, searing our retinas into oblivion. And since Ferrell won’t let anyone wear sunglasses or a hat for the photo, this proved to be a problem. Erin bought one of the pictures and I think two out of every three people’s eyes are closed. That’s what we call a “mantle piece”.
But in all seriousness, the group has been great. I haven’t had a chance to get to know everyone overly well, but I definitely feel as if I’ve clicked with a couple of handfuls of them. Who knows, perhaps I’ll run into some of them in, say, early 2011??? But it’s nice to have a keepsake that will remind me of the people I spent two great weeks with. Even if most of them will have no eyes.
Anyway, the Mount of Olives… The best thing about standing atop this mountain is the view that it affords, specifically with regard to the events leading up to the conclusion of Christ’s final week. For the first time in my life, the geography and topography of eastern Jerusalem have come alive. To be able to – from one spot – trace the line of all of the back and forth traveling by Jesus and his disciples during the last week is rather cool. From this peak, one can see the Kidron Valley, the Garden of Gethsemane, the proposed Upper Room and house of the Caiaphas, Bethany, and the Temple Mount. And when you realize that they each can be reached by foot in less than an hour, you really begin to understand not just how certain events transpired, but also of why they did and in the order in which they did.
This is the view that Jesus had of Jerusalem as he rode into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. Granted, he wasn’t looking at the Muslim Dome of the Rock.
After some time at the top of the Mount of Olives, we made our way to the bottom of it, to the Garden of Gethsemane. Now, I’m not sure what this place looked like 2,000 years ago, but today it’s best described as “sparse”. It’s also not quite as big as I would have thought it would be. Though the trees are certainly big. Olive Trees (the tree found in Gethsemane) can grow for more than 1,000 years. Beside the Garden is the Church of All Nations, where one can see the traditional (there’s that word again) Rock of Agony, where Jesus prayed that the cup might pass from him.
As we continued to descend the Mount of Olives we boarded our bus when we got to street level and set up for Bethlehem, the birthplace of Jesus. Elie is not allowed to travel into Bethlehem because it resides within the boundaries (literally, there’s a giant metal fence) the Palestinian Authority. So we exchanged him for a guy who – I think – thought he was working at a carnival instead of guiding “pilgrims”. I’m not kidding, all this guy needed was a megaphone and a dull-tipped dart. I kid, I kid. He was actually somewhat decent, but still a far cry from Elie. Elie, so I tell myself, happens to be the greatest guide in all the land and to compare anyone to him is to do the new guy a disservice.
I guess, then, that I shouldn’t have written the above paragraph comparing the two to each other…
Moving on. Bethlehem was a bit on the dull side. We did go to the Church of the Nativity, but the line to get into the “manger” area was over an hour long, and since no one in the group really cared to see it we went and saw the cave where Jerome is said to have lived while he translated the Bible into Latin. Not a bad little place, really…
While in Bethlehem, we also saw the shepherd’s fields. Which look absolutely nothing like fields. They look more like “insta-death realms as the result of copious amounts of rocks for sheep to die on fields”.
One interesting thing about Bethlehem is that you can see the Herodium in the distance, just some three miles away. You might recall that Herod the Great had all the male children in Bethlehem under the age of two put to death out of fear that the prophesied one might usurp his power one day. (Remember, Herod was one paranoid dude.) It’s somewhat chilling to stand in Bethlehem and see one of Herod’s famed fortresses peering over the horizon, as if to cast a watchful eye.
After leaving Bethlehem we stopped by the family store of Kando Antiquities. The Kando name is world-famous, as it was the grandfather of the store’s current owners who originally procured the Dead Sea scrolls. In fact, they have one of the original clay jars which housed some of the scrolls.
I looked into buying a Widow’s Mite, but they were $1,900. So instead I got a Jerusalem Cross (which apparently is supposed to be symbolic and means something to somebody) made out of olive wood. Apparently, Bethlehem is famous for its olive wood carvings. Well, that, and it was the only other thing in the store that cost less than $1,900. (It was $8. I think we know which object is going to hold its value over time.)
Our final stop of the day (well, final stop that I’m telling you about. You’d be amazed if you knew how much stuff we’d done that has never made it into this blog) was to the Garden Tomb and Calvary.
Now at this point, you might be thinking back to yesterday’s post and asking yourself, “Isn’t that what the Church of the Holy Sepulchre was for?” And… that’s the point. Tradition only gets you so far. At some point, “historical reality” and “probability” have to play a role somewhere. Though with that said, it’s doubtful that these locations are all that accurate, either. But either way, here’s a picture of the Place of a (the) Skull. You see the eyes?
Me neither.
I included the lovely parking lot in this shot because if this was where the crucifixion did take place, it would have been in front of the rock face, along the ancient Roman road. Also, in case you were curious, “Calvary” and “Golgotha” mean the same thing, just in two different languages. (Latin and Hebrew, respectively)
The Garden Tomb is fine for what it is – an illustration as to what a rock-hewn tomb would have looked like in the 1st century AD. This area is filled with similar locations that could just as easily have been Joseph of Arimathea’s tomb. But hey, if you want to be certain that this is the spot where Jesus was laid, then be my guest.
And with that, back to the hotel – where something magical has happened. As if this post wasn’t already long enough, Erin has managed to stay awake past 10:00. So here’s another 1,000 words to read!
…
Well, I’m sorry to say I’m a little disappointed. After James invited everyone to send me text message incentives to blog, alas, I only received one. So for all of my FAN out there (Hi, Uncle David!), here is the next volume in The Adventures of Erin!
To begin: Petra. I realize that James already touched on this subject, but it bears mentioning again. The site in and of itself is well worth the four-hour drive to the middle of Nowhere, Jordan. One could be fully satisfied simply walking through the siq and snapping photos. James and I, however, jumped at the opportunity to hike to the top of the High Place, which enhances the experience. The trail begins in simple stair steps carved into the rock, and gets increasingly more difficult and dangerous as you near the peak. By the time we finally reached the top, we were literally crab-crawling up the boulders. And what a view it offered! And what a great memory.
Fast forward – we have now spent three days in Jerusalem. In the interest of time, I will limit most of my commentary to the Old City. It is divided into several sections, including the Jewish Quarter and the Moslem Quarter.
Our first taste of the Old City was in the Moslem Quarter during day one of Jerusalem. I initially found it to be a dirty, crowded place… smelling of trash in the streets and full of store owners desperate to sell you something, anything. What blows my mind is that the shopkeepers (who make their living this way, mind you) can’t seem to come up with merchandise any different from the place next door… which just happens to be selling the exact same stuff. (How many hookahs can one need, anyway?) Or how about an opening line more original than, “You want to look at my shop?” We were warned before entering the quarter to watch our bags closely. Beware of pickpockets. Don’t make eye-contact with the peddlers. Once acclimated to the Moslem Quarter I didn’t mind it so much. I wouldn’t hang out there alone on a Saturday night, by any means, but I can appreciate it for what it is.
Much of today was spent in the Jewish Quarter, which was, in a word, lovely. I’m sure that James will tell you all about the really, really interesting political dynamics going on in this region during the Turkish-Byzantine period, but I’ll just quickly give you the straight dope.
The differences here from the Moslem Quarter are, as Cole Porter would say, like night and day. A pristine neighborhood with clean streets and neatly organized shops where shopkeepers go out of their way to be helpful regardless of whether you’re even buying anything! (One man even gave James a free poster tube to transport that blasted painting of his around in.) After touring the Jewish Quarter for a while today, we broke for lunch. Every other day so far we’ve been herded into a buffet-style restaurant with an assortment of chicken, lamb, rice, and potatoes, so I welcomed the chance for some different lunch choices. The group divided into smaller sub-groups/couples and went their own ways. I had my heart set on pizza; James had his heart set on a bookshop. So we split up and went our separate ways. I ventured through the roads and past a synagogue (which is nestled in the center of the quarter) searching for the recommended pizza restaurant. As I turned a corner, I approached a friendly-looking man standing outside one of the unlabeled restaurants and asked if he knew where Rami’s Pizza was. “Me! I am Rami!” he cheerfully replied in his Hebrew accent. Never would I have thought that I would not only survive a solo lunch in Jerusalem, but even enjoy it! How liberating. I like to think of myself as a Jason Bourne of sorts. Here is the tiny, charming little pizza shop (and Rami is on the right).
While I reveled in my independence, James was buying a few… you guessed it… books. In case any of you are wondering, he did bring exactly 11 books on this trip, and here is the proof.
Now he can add to these his purchases from today: an Old Testament in Hebrew and a three-volume set of the Old Testament in parallel Hebrew and English. Of course, lest we forget, HE CAN’T EVEN READ HEBREW!
After the lunch break, everyone met up in our designated area to continue our walk through the city. As James’ brain began to catch up with his actions, he realized that carrying the books around all day would become quite inconvenient. His solution? To put them in my backpack. Sure, James… I don’t mind toting 35 extra pounds of book. Don’t mind at all! As it turned out, he managed to somehow make the books fit and we traded bags. He carried my pack, I carried the camera bag. As we all stood there, waiting to get rolling again, I darted into the closest store in search of a scarf (which I’ve been wanting to buy throughout the trip).
Sidenote: I can’t mention a scarf without saying a word in the defense of my own scarves. As a matter of fact, they’re lightweight, springy scarves and serve multiple functions/purposes. They are: 1) cute 2) essential in soaking up neck sweat, and 3) helpful in covering the blistery sunburn right at the top of my shirt collar. (James’ note: “I don’t think numbers two and three were even remotely taken into consideration prior to boarding the plane to come over here. So pretty much we’re left with ‘cute’. Uh huh.)
Now that the issue is settled, I’ll continue. I entered the store and quickly found a scarf I liked. It wasn’t until I was at the counter paying that I realized all of my money was with James in the backpack. All I had with me in the camera bag was his debit card. Cha-ching! Also, the store owner required a 25-shekel minimum in order to pay with a card. So I had no choice but to pick out another scarf. Double cha-ching! I paid, signed, and left to rejoin my group, only to find our area completely deserted. Not a familiar face in sight. Fortunately, I didn’t panic. I instantly went into my Jason Bourne detective mode and began making my survival plan for the next 48 hours. Also, I walked around for about 20 minutes until I ran into James and another man from our group who were both looking for me. The real moment came when I arrived into the recessed cove where the group was seated stadium-style, and they all erupted into cheers and clapping. They must’ve been really impressed with my survival skills.
…
And with that, we’re going to walk back to our hotel. We’re just about on a first-name basis with the night staff at the Olive Tree Hotel.
Also, due to this blog being one day behind, tomorrow’s post will be somewhat difficult to get on here seeing as how we leave for the airport tomorrow afternoon. So while it might not be on here at the time you’re used to seeing it (early evening for you, I believe), it will be on here by the time you go to sleep. I hope.
Yeah, so… nevermind on that whole ‘let’s try and get caught up by putting two days into one’ thing. An evening stroll through a neighborhood bazaar ended any chance of that happening. So instead, we’ll just continue to roll with the ‘one day behind’ format. Doesn’t really change things for you, does it?
Two evenings ago we arrived safely in Jerusalem after a long drive in from Jordan. Our hotel is quite nice (aside from the Internet). Actually, it seems like every successive hotel on this trip has been nicer than the one that preceded it. And to think that we get FOUR CONSECUTIVE NIGHTS in the same hotel… ah, so nice. Needless to say, my clothes are strung out all over the floor in my hotel room.
But moving on to things that actually pertain to the trip…
Yesterday morning we started at the beginning, in that we made our way to the City of David; that is, the Jerusalem that King David occupied after defeating the Jebusites in the 11th century BC. Located just outside the SW corner of the Old City walls, much has been uncovered that shows what the city looked like at its earliest. Actually, our guide, Elie, worked on this site in the 1980’s and even uncovered an ancient toilet seat! Obviously, a fair amount of imagination has to be used when looking at ruins of this nature, but it was still nice to get a feel of where the “Jerusalem” that we all see on the map in the backs of our Bibles emanated from. Most of the view of these remains comes from walking above them on a suspended metal bridge, the kind with all the slats(?) in it. Because of that, most of my pictures make it look like the City of David is doing hard time.
While in the same vicinity, we made our way to Hezekiah’s tunnel. One of the great feats of ancient engineering, King Hezekiah (ruled from 716-687 BC) set about to strengthen the fortifications of Jerusalem by expanding on an existing Canaanite tunnel that brought water from the Gihon Spring into the city (II Kings 20:20). Impressively, the engineers elected to begin digging at opposite ends and meet in the middle. This tunnel is just over 1,700 feet long. While you can walk it (flashlight and clothes you don’t mind getting wet are required), our group wasn’t able to (I guess due to there being so many of us). That’s just one more reason to make a return trip. The first picture below is from within the tunnel where Hezekiah elected to deviate from the existing tunnel. You can see the change in rock type drawing a horizontal line through the middle of the frame; the lower portion is where Hezekiah elected to keep going down. The second picture below is of the entrance into the tunnel that can be walked. The water can get fairly high, easily as much as a couple of feet. That’s what you’ve got to walk through for 1,700 feet if you want to make it to the reservoir. Oh, and all in a space that, aside from being pitch black (hence the flashlight), is generally no more than two feet wide.
Once having taken in the tunnel, we saw one of the pools that got its water from the Gihon Spring: the Pool of Siloam. It was here where Jesus told the blind man to go and wash in order to receive his sight. Probably some 85% of the pool is covered by overgrowth, but the other 15% can be seen in this picture:
The next stop on the day’s itinerary was to go within the walls of the Old City. We entered through the newly restored Jaffa Gate.
Once inside the Old City, you are inundated with a barrage of individuals trying to sell you something. Anything. Just about the worst thing you can do is show the faintest bit of interest, as you now have a travel buddy for the next 50 yards. The old city is a mixture of old and older. The Turkish additions that were built in the 16th century are considered modern.
We did walk the Via Dolorosa (Latin for ‘Way of Suffering’), which is just about the most crooked street I’ve ever been on. (Yes, the street is actually called the Via Dolorosa.) Granted, the Stations of the Cross aren’t necessarily historically accurate as only eight of the 14 actually appear in the gospel accounts (some of the stations, in fact, have been altered on numerous occasions over the centuries), but it was still cool to walk a path that has, culturally, become so ingrained into one’s visit to Jerusalem.
The Via Dolorosa ends at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. It’s here where tradition says that Christ was crucified, buried, and rose. Historically and archaeologically, it’s doubtful that any of those events happened here. But as Elie says, “We’re not here to challenge anyone’s tradition, just to give it a firmer foundation to rest on.” Most of the countless traditional “holy sites” don’t exist until after 325AD, when the Roman emperor Constantine (and to a larger extent, his mother Helena) begin searching for locations and relics that have Christian significance after declaring Christianity the new state religion of Rome. Take into consideration the fact that by then nearly 300 years have elapsed since the death of Christ, and you can see how some “room for error” might find its way into the picture. But then you add some 1,700 years of tradition on top of those sites, and what you’re left with is a rigid belief that is hard to sway. We see it in Chicago all the time as people come from all over the Unites States to see the hallowed walls of… Wrigley Field. (And it’s not even 100 years old.)
Traditional Stations of the Cross located within the Church of the Holy Sepulchre include the rock where the cross stood (which can be touched via a hole in the ground if one chooses to wait in line to do so) and the tomb itself. (I’ll have more to say about those locations in tomorrow’s post when we look at the Garden Tomb and the Place of a Skull.)
To close out the day, we saw the Church of St. Peter in Gallicantu. It is here where some scholars believe that the house of the High Priest Caiaphas was located, which therefore would make it the place where Jesus was questioned on the night of his betrayal. From this location, one has a sweeping view of the Kidron Valley, flanked by the Temple Mount on the left and the Mount of Olives on the right.
Once our group had made their way back to our hotel, Erin and I decided that we wanted to head back out on our own. And since sundown was just a half hour away (thereby bringing in the Sabbath), we decided that the Western Wall was the place to be.
We weren’t really sure how to get to the Old City on our own, let alone the Western Wall, but after about 100 yards it became quite obvious where we needed to be going. All we had to do was follow the sea of fast-moving Jews who were anxiously coming from all over the city to pray at the Wall at the onset of Sabbath.
We entered the Old City through the Damascus Gate on the north and were herded past men and women (mostly men) of all ages. Orthodox Jews, with their big fuzzy hats (called ‘shtreimals’), seemed to comprise most of those who quickly jostled past us. Once at the edge of the Wall complex, we had to pass through a security checkpoint. We finally made it into the courtyard. Turning the corner and seeing the Western Wall in front of me is probably one of the most powerful things I’ve ever witnessed. The swelling surge of Jews made the moment that much more intense. Photography of any kind is forbidden at the Wall on Sabbath. Long-time readers of this blog know that can only mean one thing: Erin took a photo. I might as well not let it go to waste…
After a few minutes of waiting outside the prayer area and just watching, Erin and I decided that we would enter the prayer area for a closer experience. Men and women are not allowed to approach the wall together and are kept apart by a dividing wall, so she went her way and me mine. Once inside the prayer area and closer to the wall, I felt like a pebble among boulders. The swirling sounds of song, chants, prayer, reading, and laughter brought about near sensory overload. After some time, I decided that I would go up to the wall and pray. Not because I felt that doing so *at the Western Wall* would make any more of a difference, but because it just felt appropriate. I know it’s just a wall. (I’m not sure the people next to me did.) But watching the actions of those around me so fervently directing their thoughts makes it nearly impossible to not want to do the same. I don’t think being at that place at that time was very conducive to just being an innocent bystander. Interestingly enough, I stood between two Israeli soldiers, guns and all. Joshua’s Israelites are still here.
It really was a pretty surreal experience for both Erin and me. We eventually just stood there, watching the sun inch its way down and the darkness take its place, surrounded by a level of devotion that is exceedingly admirable. Lessons can always be learned.
I’ll have more to say about the Western Wall in a day or two.
And so that’s where we’re at. Erin is asleep on the lobby couch next to me. For those of you who want to hear more from her, text her and tell her that all she needs to do is stay awake past 10:00.
psalm 59:16… day ten
Well I’ve run across blazing upload speeds for the Internet. And I’m sure you’re wondering where these mystical upload speeds have come from. I’ll tell you. It’s not a secret. From ANOTHER HOTEL, that’s where! That’s right, I’m currently sitting in the lobby of the Olive Tree Hotel, which is down the road from the Grand Court where I’m staying. I decided that it would be worth a whirl to see if I could get Internet access over here, and aside from the awkwardness of my response to the front desk agent’s question of, “What room are you staying in?”, it’s been a worthwhile purchase. But I’ve only got three hours until my time runs out, so I bettr start tyeing fast if i wan too get this all in,
So let’s start with me bringing you up to speed on yesterday’s events.
On Thursday we saw three sites: Masada, Qumran, and Jericho. Here are my thoughts on each…
Every trip has that one site that everyone you know who has been to the location you’re going to before tells you is just amazing and then you see it for yourself and it’s a dud. Well, Masada was that place for me. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t boring or anything; it just wasn’t as enticing as you would think a stronghold built high atop a natural defensive fortification could be. The story behind its final days was pretty worthwhile, but the place itself… not so much.
For those not familiar with this place, the end of the story is that Masada was a stronghold on the western edge of the Dead Sea and was built by Herod the Great to serve as a place of refuge. Blah, blah, blah – the guy had plenty of them, as he was one paranoid dude. But where the story of Masada takes a turn for the interesting is when we look at what happened there in 73AD, just three years after Jerusalem had fallen at the hands of the Romans. Led by Eleazor, a number of Jewish extremists had been holding out against the impending Roman destruction. The Romans finally determined that building a siege ramp out of the rubble would be their best option for the completion of their efforts to destroy the Jewish state.
Rather than succumb to slavery, Eleazor convinced his comrades that suicide was a better option. So after killing the women and children, the extremists of Masada took their own lives. The rousing speech that Eleazor delivered to his men is captured for us by Josephus in his Wars of the Jews, though it is debated how accurate Josephus is with regard to this episode. (I would argue “not very”. Though with that said, I think that Josephus’ account may simply be an embellishment of what might have happened, perhaps as a bit of an apology for bailing on his countrymen.) Anyway, in the last few decades the story of Masada has served as a motivator and symbol for the young of Israel. (Nevermind the fact that Eleazor and his men actually pillaged from and killed most of the people in surrounding villages while trying to outwait the Romans). Today, it’s the most visited tourist site in all of Israel. And I still found it lacking. At the end of the day, there really aren’t that many ruins at the top of this 1,400 foot high mountain and it feels like it’s 109 degrees when you’re up there.
Anyway, here’s a picture of the siege ramp that the Romans built out of debris and rocks which allowed them to finally take Masada (ramp is in the middle). It’s pretty cool that it’s still there:
From Masada, our next stop was at Qumran where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found. And the way the scrolls were found is actually a pretty interesting story. They weren’t so much as “found by a shepherd” as they were “illegally sold on the Black Market”. But nonetheless, these documents serve as the find of the 20th century. Pictured below is Cave 4, where the clear majority of the scrolls have – to date – been found.
The theory goes that the Essenes buried the scrolls in clay pots and jars in an attempt to preserve their writings (largely instructions on their way of life) as they were quickly being expelled by the Romans in 68AD. Unfortunately, it appears as if the Romans tore much of the writings up, thinking that they were junk as they rooted the caves in search of usable materials. But after what was probably at least a handful of rolls of Scotch tape, most of the 900+ documents have been restored, providing us with the oldest known copies of what was of far more value than how the Essenes bathed – the Biblical texts.
Our final stop for the day was one that I’m sure was circled on most everyone’s itineraries – Jericho.
Today, Jericho is a thriving area. It seems that it’s one of the first considerations for those ready to leave Jerusalem. What really came to life for me was how obvious it is as to why this would have been the first city that Joshua and his men would have conquered during the conquest. When standing atop Mount Nebo, the city looks like it’s just a skip away from the Jordan River, near where it meets the Dead Sea.
But that’s not to say that the Jericho of the Old Testament just jumps right out at you, as you really have no idea what you’re even looking at. Jericho is, it seems, about as poorly dug of an archaeological site as you’re going to run into. It pretty much just looks like a big grey mound. You can see the revetment (outer) wall from Joshua’s day still standing, but other than that it’s mostly just a lot of pot shards and weeds. In the picture below you can see the shadow of Jericho in the foreground, with the famed palm trees in the middle, and the Plain of Moab in the background.
As I’ve already mentioned, Jericho had two walls – an outer (revetment) wall and an inner wall (probably 25′-50′ higher up the hill from the outer wall). This was a common technique in antiquity. If your opponent made it through one wall (a generally time consuming affair) then he still had to make it through another one. It’s the inner, higher wall that would have fallen to the ground for the benefit of the Israelites, at which point they would have scaled the lower wall with ladders and other such paraphernalia. While there is evidence of the inner wall having actually fallen, I don’t have any pictures of that. But the whole structure would have looked something like this:
Here’s a video that shows you the still-standing outer wall:
So while it might not be much to look at, it’s still the site of one of the most well-known stories in the Bible and it’s a testament to how – once again – the Biblical accounts can be verified as long as you’re willing to allow enough time to pass for new discoveries to be made. Because time is one of the biggest allies the Bible has.
…
We spent all of today in Jerusalem, and so I plan to fit both Friday and Saturday’s events into an All-Jerusalem-All-The-Time post tomorrow in an effort to get us caught up after The Great Internet Debacle of Oh-10. But I will tell you one thing about today’s events that was just wonderful…
You see, we’ve been changing hotels quite frequently while on this excursion. Checking in at 6:00 in the evening and checking out at 8:00 the next morning is fairly common on this trip. But we have four days in the same hotel (well, unless, of course, you feel the need to walk to a different hotel for some random reason) to close the trip out. As a result, it meant that this morning Erin and I only had to carry two small backpacks onto the bus instead of our usual of two large suitcases, three backpacks, a camera bag, and about half a dozen giant bottles of water. As a result of that usual routine, our area tends to look like a landfill by the end of the day. I’m not kidding, the only thing keeping us and our 6 square feet area from joining the hobo consortium is a stick and a bandana. But not today. Today our feet actually touched the floor.
Oh, and because someone asked…. Of course we hummed the Indiana Jones theme while riding our horses into the siq in Petra at the majestic speed of ‘walking’.
Two for the price of one tomorrow!
to the valley of the crescent moon… day nine
Annnndd… let’s try this again.
I seem to now have a dedicated Internet connection, though I’m still lacking significantly in the speed department.
Oh. And we made it to Jerusalem.
We checked into the Garden Court hotel a few hours ago. Being the final hotel we’ll stay in (and the first for more than two nights), it’s odd realizing that our trip has quickly neared its conclusion. We’ll spend the next four days here in Jerusalem, and then we’ll head back to the States. It’s part disappointing, part frustrating, and part excitement. Often, we, as tourists, hit the big city first and then slowly work our way away from it. By saving the most prominent city in Israel until last, it feels like there is so much to look forward to at a time in the trip when we would normally be itching to get home.
But enough about the next four days, how about the last two?
In a word: wejustspentthelast48hoursseeingsomeoftheworldsmostimportantsites.
Don’t bother looking that up in a dictionary. It’s a word, okay?
(Though since the Internet connection here is so slow – 2KB/s upload speeds; meaning pictures take 20 minutes to upload and 30-second videos, hours – I’m only going to post Wednesday’s activity here. From here on out, what you read will probably be a day behind when it actually took place. It’s not preferred, but forced.)
…
Yesterday morning began fairly early for me; in fact, I was probably the first person awake in the hotel. We were in Petra and the night before I decided that I wanted to watch the sunrise over the rock-strewn valley. I asked the front desk clerk what time the sun rose and he responded with, “5:00.” Excuse me?
But there I was at 5:09 that morning – sitting outside, shivering, watching the sky turn from black to blue, with reds and golds splashed across the face of the mountains. I recorded nearly an hour and a half of the sunrise with my Flip and plan to turn it into a 60-second time lapse video. Hopefully I’ll have that ready within a day or two (but with the turn the technology portion of this trip has taken the last couple of days, don’t count on it). Eventually I went back to the room to get ready for the day. When I came back down to the lobby, the area where I had been was swarming with people. It was kind of nice to know that dozens of people were now elbowing for camera room from an area that I had had all to myself just a short time earlier – and with a better show! I’ve watched the sun rise from some pretty unique places before (including from above the clouds) but that one probably beats them all.
Once we had made it into the actual canyon, things only progressed. We began with a horse ride down to where the siq (shaft, or narrow pass) begins. And from there, you’re on foot through alternating stretches of sand, rock, and ancient Roman road for a couple of miles, culminating in a view that is arguably the most famous the world has to offer. After all, you don’t earn the coveted World Heritage Site designation by being unrecognizable to the world.
Only-imagined vistas such as this…
Lead you to well-known ones such as this…
Once you’ve walked another 50 yards or so, the siq opens up into a wide area allowing for a full view of the treasury (or temple or housing or storage facility depending on when in Petra’s history you find yourself) as well as many other structures that the Nabateans built a handful of centuries before Christ. The only disappointing aspect of this moment is that there are so many people. It’s like Six Flags on the 4th of July, but only on steroids. It really distracts from the experience as you’re more concerned with not getting swallowed up in the sea of people than you are anything else. Fortunately there is an opportunity to ascend to the High Place. You have to take a steep staircase carved into the side of the rock to make it there, but once you’re at the top, the panoramic views afforded are well worth the effort. Not to mention that you find yourself with more Bedouins (two) than other tourists.
The trek back to the tour bus was a difficult one, as both Erin and I were so tired from walking up to the High Place and back that our legs were shaking with each step. But once back on the bus we left for our hotel on the Dead Sea, which was another four-hour drive from one country (Jordan) to another (Israel) but afforded an opportunity to catch up on some much needed rest.
Once arriving at our hotel on the Dead Sea, a handful of the tour members quickly made their way into the water. Swimming in the Dead Sea is one of those experiences that no doubt etches itself into the cavities of your mind. The best way I can think to describe it is to say that it’s pretty much like swimming in liquid jelly. Of course, you do float. The one downside that no one tells you about beforehand (and no one really thinks to consider on their own) is the fact that you’re in salt… and thus every cut, knick, scrape, etc on your body feels like it’s on fire when you get out. But, hey, I’m told that all that salt does wonders for wounds.
And with that, our day had come to its end.
I know that to you this likely sounds like a short, uneventful day with nothing much besides a really long bus ride to occupy our time with. But that’s not the case. Petra, where we spent a number of hours, is hands-down one of the most memorable places I’ve ever seen. On a typical day on this trip, I’ve been taking about 80 photos – and that’s spread out over three or four locations. I took nearly 200 photos while in Petra. It seemed as if there was something worth focusing on (literally) every few steps.
And since I fell asleep for 20 minutes waiting for the last photo to upload, I’m going to bed. Though for the greatest comment in the history of this blog, check out my man Josh Kirby’s “interpretation” of why there really was no post yesterday. Look under the comments in ‘Day Seven’.
no post today…
I’m sorry to announce that there will be no post today. While there is an Internet connection at our new hotel, it’s too slow and inconsistent for me to fight through. Had I not gotten just two hours of sleep last night I might be more inclined to tough it out, but it’s 11:20 at night here right now and I can barely keep my eyes open.
But on the bright side, perhaps you’ll be treated to another 2,000 word discourse tomorrow evening. A girl can dream, right?
deuteronomy 34… day seven
We’re back! And we made it to Jordan. And the photo above proves it!
(today’s post is long; fair warning)
Today’s post is being written while making the four-hour drive from Amman to Petra along the King’s Highway, one of the most famous roads of all-time with a known history that extends back for more than 4,000 years. The road, now obviously paved, extends from Syria all the way to Aqaba. While pausing to consider what to say and how to word sentences, Erin and I are exposed to the desert of Jordan where from time to time we see sheep, goats, camels, and even the occasional Bedouin tribe in the distance camped out in tents made from animal skins. For a brief overview of this road, let me turn things over to Ferrell…
Really, it’s been a pretty relaxing day. We’ll get to the specifics later but to this point the only frustration we’ve encountered was when… well, I’ll just let you watch for yourself –
And since Erin is clearly hitting her stride, I’ll go ahead and let her kick things off today. But let me point out that Erin and I decided to each write an account of yesterday’s events with the agreement that each would be posted with no collaboration – just to see how the same experience would be related from each point of view. Having now read them both – with no changes having been made – I think you’ll find some differing recollections of just how things went down.
Day Six with Erin
Much has happened since the last entry. We left Tiberias early Monday morning to begin our tour of Jordan. Upon reaching the border, we were herded through a series of processes that involved multiple passport checks, several stamps and tickets, and three total buses (including the loading and unloading of our luggage each time). Finally, we crossed the Jordan River and made our way through a small town just on the other side of the border. For the first time, I truly felt as if I was far away from home. Israel is extremely Americanized and English-friendly. Jordan, on the other hand, is like passing through a time warp. Allow me to illustrate the scene…
Our first glimpse of Jordan was this tiny, seemingly provincial town. My guess is that it is a place of high poverty levels, but also of rich cultural value. Children had apparently just been let out of school and were walking home in all directions. As we drove through the dusty roads, the smallest children would literally run alongside our bus, smiling and waving. Some even blew kisses. Interestingly enough, the older adolescents had a far different reaction. Some stood still holding their fingers in a peace sign as we passed. Others signaled profanities at us. One even threw a rock. My only explanation of this sentiment is that teenagers have a more acute opinion of Americans or tourists than do the “naïve” younger generation. Or, maybe they’re simply being teenagers. Some of the other sights that made an impression on me were those of cultural significance: a woman dressed head-to-toe in black completely covered except for her eyes, holding a swaddled baby in her arms. Or a little boy, probably about four or five, carrying two dead chickens (feathers and all) upside-down by their feet. On the outskirts we had to slow down for a herd of sheep and goats, and for more children who wanted nothing more than a smile and a wave from us.
(Normally, I would insert a quality photo of the above-mentioned scene, but I was unable to obtain one since James wouldn’t stop listening to our new Jordanian guide wax about the history of ancient Jordan long enough for me to get the camera out from under his seat. So if you feel deprived, blame him.)
An hour or so later, we arrived in Jerash. Upon entry, we were bombarded with vendors who desperately want to sell you anything they possibly can. One of the “free-lance” vendors was a three-year-old boy (at most), which, as it turns out, is a pretty effective marketing strategy. Who can say “No” to a three-year-old selling a stack of postcards for a dollar? I certainly couldn’t.
No doubt, James will bore you tell you too much more about the historical significance of Jerash later, but for now, I’ll just give you some of my personal highlights. As an ancient city there are impressive ruins to behold, including a theater and a hippodrome that are still partially intact. While wandering around the theater, we were treated to some Jordanian tribal drums and authentic… bagpipes…? As odd as Scottish music seemed in the Middle East, it did provide an opportunity to add yet another entry into my Drumming Diaries…
At the hippodrome, we had the pleasure of seeing a reenactment of the practices of the Roman legions, gladiators, and chariot races. After the show, spectators were invited into the arena for photographs. I was even one of the two people lucky enough to audition for a remake of Ben Hur!
After the hippodrome show, we left Jerash the same way we had come in, through the huddle of shops and street vendors. James bought an abstract painting that will be the bane of my existence. (Not to mention the existence of everyone around him.) It’s on a fairly small, floppy piece of canvas but you would think it was the Mona Lisa the way he agonizes over it so cautiously. And dare I say, I could’ve done it myself. Any Joe on the street can slap red paint on a sheet of paper and add some black scribbles. Oh well, I’m sure someday he’ll be really glad he has it crumpled up in the floor of his closet…
Our day ended with the arrival to our hotel in Amman – Jordan’s capital city – around 4:30pm. Everyone gladly welcomed the early evening-in, as we all needed a good night’s sleep. We awoke this morning, rested and refreshed, and repacked our suitcases for the next overnight stop.
I’ll leave today’s activities for James to recount on his own. But for now, let’s see what kind of lies he will make up about the happenings of yesterday.
Day Six with James
This morning we said goodbye to the Sea of Galilee. Even at three days it doesn’t at all seem as if we had ample time to see all of the things we wished to see. But that’s okay. You need some excuse to make a return trip within the next few years.
The border cross into Jordan was far from a timely experience. We must have spent at least a good two hours, mostly eating Magnum bars, waiting for all of the formalities to take place. Though I think Erin had a slightly more enjoyable time, as she was eyed – and by “eyed” I mean “stared at without any semblance of blinking for minutes on end” – by a handful of Jordanian men. Maybe she should have taken one of the eleventy-hundred scarves she brought on this desert climate trip and wrapped them around her blonde hair and blue eyes.
We traded for a new guide for our time in Jordan, a gentleman whose name is Tareq. His English is a little more difficult to understand than Elie’s (who we’ll meet back up with when we cross back into Israel later this week), but he seems to know his stuff. He was wonderful to listen to on the hour-long drive from the border into Jaresh. Erin kept asking me for something, but I was too engrossed into learning the history of ancient Jordan to pay much attention.
Being one of the Roman Decapolis cities, Jerash was once a bustling center of trade and commerce. The ancient streets, and I mean streets, are marvelous, not to mention the agora and theater. Ancient Jerash gives the Forum in Rome a run for its money and probably bests it due simply to the sheer size of the complex. The theater, by the way, had musicians playing. It was nice to just be able to sit back on the ancient – and marked with Greek seat numbers – stone steps and take in the presentation.
One aspect of Jerash that was actually rather fascinating to watch, was the systematic approach that was taken to “selling tourists odd things for well over market price”. Erin actually ended up buying a set of 10 postcards from a young boy. (And I mean young. I think the only words he could say were “One” and “Dollar”.) But what was interesting to watch was how at the parking lot, postcards and small wooden flutes were one for $1. Another hundred yards into the park and another person was selling them two for $1. Another hundred yards, three for $1. By the time you get to the third wave, you’re convinced that you’re getting the deal of the week and you buy six flutes because the price is just too good to pass up.
Of course, there were better purchases to make. One thing that I bought after some time of internal debate was an original Bilal. You might not have heard of Bilal. And that’s okay, I hadn’t either. But he’s a local artist who specializes in acrylic on canvas paintings. I picked up an amazing piece, painted with a “new perspective” as Bilal put it. I think he’s right. I’m going to have the piece stretched and framed as soon as I get home. It’ll be the centerpiece of my living abode for decades to come. I wasn’t provided with a poster tube to carry it in, so I’ve had to be rather careful with it on the bus, but I don’t think anyone has minded.
…
Well I’ll just let you just decide for yourself which one us most aptly took advantage of “creative license”.
But moving on to Day Seven
Today we were able to see two of the most unique sights that this trip has had to offer so far; one expected and the other a bit more unso. (I know that’s not a word. Leave me alone.)
After driving from Amman to the area of Perea, we made our way down to the border of Jordan and Israel. That border is defined by the Jordan River. We, specifically, made our way to the general area recognized as where the baptism of Jesus by John took place. The water level has dropped precipitously in the last 100 years, let alone the last two millenniums, but one could still get a feel for what the surroundings looked and felt like.
After some time there, we continued to Mount Nebo, but not before a group of us huddled around one of my books in an effort to find a location on a map. Vindicated!
Mount Nebo is the mountain from which Moses was able to see the Promised Land, having been forbidden to enter it due to his disregard for the Lord’s instruction with regard to drawing water from rocks. From this vantage point, one can easily see why, when compared with the Wilderness in which the Israelites had been wandering, a far more advantageous location awaited. Not to mention that Jericho seems like just a stone’s throw from the Jordan River, which makes it completely clear as to why that would have been the first city that Joshua and his men would have looked to conquer.
Once having spent some time there, we made the aforementioned four-hour drive to our hotel at the edge of the Petra Valley, where tomorrow we will descend. We arrived just a bit after the sun had set, but I did take a few shots of the cliffs at dusk, just before night fell.
Goodnight, see you tomorrow. Don’t forget to submit your questions via the comments!
Annnddddd…. here we go with another post that is destined to keep me up comfortably past midnight. I don’t think I’ve hit the five-hour mark on a night’s sleep yet on this trip. Fortunately, there is occasional time on the bus between stops to get 15-20 minutes worth of sleep…
Today was a rather special day, as it proved to be my first opportunity to spend a first day of the week, remembering and celebrating Jesus, in the land in which his life actually took place. Very surreal, to say the least. Tour member Harold Comer of Alabama spoke for us on the idea that, while Israel is proving to be far more beautiful than most of us imagined it would be, there is a greater beauty that needs to be recognized and served.
And with that I’m going to allow myself to introduce… myself…
As the video states, we only saw three sites for any real length of time today. Each of these sites – Hazor, Dan, and Caesarea Philippi – was very impressive, even if we do tend to gloss over them in our studies. (Though as the first picture hints at, we also spent a fair amount of time in the Golan Heights, which border Syria…)
Due to the topographical features of northern Israel in antiquity, Hazor served as a perennial “guardian” city against forces marching south between the Mediterranean Sea and the Sea of Galilee, the history of which dates back nearly 4,000 years and includes Caananite occupation. The book of Joshua states that Hazor was “the head of” the kingdoms of northern Palestine. One element of principal interest is the gate constructed at the order of Solomon that can be read of in I Kings 9. The darker stones in the picture below are that gate.
Hazor also contains a well that was dug into the ground by Ahab in the middle of the 9th century BC. If you’re willing to descend many, many meters into the earth the source of the water can be found. I was willing. Getting down was fairly easy, climbing back up left me out of breath for a good 10 minutes. Here is the ancient staircase (with a modern one built over the middle of it) to where the water was located.
There is great hope that future excavations of Hazor, which would take more than one lifetime to complete, will lead to the discovery of the first near-complete archives of an Israelite habitation. We know from the Old Testament that there were detailed records kept of vital information, though, to date, an actual archive is yet to be discovered.
From Hazor we made our way further north to Caesarea Philippi. While here, Ferrell read to the group verses 13-19 of the 16th chapter of the gospel of Matthew. The effect that this passage being read had on Ferrell – as well as the whole group – will long remain with me. No simple retelling in a blog post could do the moment justice, but for those who were there, the incident will be seared into their memories for likely the rest of their lives.
Prior to being controlled by Philip (a son of Herod the Great and a tetrarch of Judea), the city was called Paneas after the pagan god Pan. The area, particularly the cave which received sacrifices, was littered with niches which contained the carved images of many of the pagan gods. When compared with the close proximity to Mount Hermon (the highest peak in the region and the likely sight of the transfiguration), for Christ to choose this location to state the permanency of his church is not without steep symbolism.
Our final major stop of the day took us to Dan. It was here where Jeroboam set up a place of worship in stark contrast to the temple in Jerusalem (I Kings 12:28-31). From steps leading to the altar to the inclusion of a golden calf, the city of Dan served as a blatant affront to the rigid demands made of more dedicated worshippers elsewhere in the region.
Perhaps the most unique element of Dan is the purported throne. Pictured below, it would have been draped by a canopy and likely was quite similar to the throne from which Solomon would have saved a child from being cut in two. Not quite what you had always imagined, is it?
Once back at the hotel, Erin and I elected to head out on our own for the first time on the trip. While the group has been great, it was nice for the two of us (easily the two youngest people on the trip) to relax away from the hotel. And we did so on the balcony of a local restaurant, overlooking the Sea of Galilee.
Tomorrow we leave Tiberias and begin our trek to Amman, Jordan. It’s my understanding that we’ll be getting into Jordan rather late tomorrow, so I’m electing to take tomorrow night off as far as blog posts go. I need at least one good night’s sleep in the middle of this trip.
But before I go for today, I want to do two things: 1) Provide for an opportunity for you, the reader, and 2) Fill you in on just who is overseeing this tour for us.
1) I’d like to encourage you to post a question in the comments section. Anything you’d like to know about the trip – from the mundane to the intricate – and I’ll answer it in a future post.
2) Just keep reading…
Ferrell, Tour Director – Ferrell has been leading tours to not only Israel and Jordan, but also Egypt, Turkey, Greece, Italy, and most every other country you’ve read about in the Bible for over four decades now. While now retired from teaching, he served as the Chair of the Biblical Studies department at Florida College.
Elie, Tour Guide - Elie has been leading tours of the Holy Lands for nearly 30 years and has worked with Ferrell for half of them. As a dual citizen of both Israel and the Unites States, he is able – while speaking perfect English – to bring flawless expertise of not only the history of ancient Israel, but also of its geography. Having participated in a number of archaeological digs in the region, he is also able to place the things we see in an appropriate scientific realm.
Fawzy, Driver - He hasn’t hit anyone while backing up for a hundred yards in tight confinements. Gets my vote.
Sharon & Jane, Fellow Bloggers - Some of you may have noticed the new links in the upper right-hand corner of this blog. Sharon (on the right) writes Scene with Sharon in addition to being Erin’s roommate. Jane (on the left) authors Journeys with Jane and has developed quite the online following.
Bus – Our Transportation
See everyone in two nights – and remember, post those questions in the comments!
judges 7:2… day four
If today alone were all this trip consisted of, it still would have been worth two 12-hour plane rides.
The day started off with a brief walk down to what I thought was Lake Galilee. And I say “lake” because, with only your eyes to guide you, you wouldn’t think that this body of water is all that big; certainly not big enough to earn the grand title of “sea”. That’s a description better left to the Mediterranean or the Caspian or the Adriatic; bodies of water that we know are huge. Our globes tell us as much. But when you look at the “Sea” of Galilee from the road or even just the beach, you think to yourself, “That’s it?”
But then you get out on it. There must be some kind of optical illusion that your eyes play on you when you’re not on the water, because, once you are, the thing is huge. Lake Galilee becomes the Sea of Galilee quite quickly.
And by 8:15 in the morning I was on it.
Navigating the Sea of Galilee is a very unique experience. I’ve never really had a travel experience that replicated the seamless combination of simplicity and history that this harp-shaped body of water provides. One half of your brain has a hard time depicting anything of significance taking place here (let alone a man or two walking on the surface of it), while the other half of your brain is fascinated by the memorable events that took place around the edges of the sea like frogs around a pond.
Our first place of emphasis on the sea was a natural amphitheater just off the coast. From there, modern research has shown it possible for – at a normal speaking voice – sound to be heard for a couple of hundred yards up onto the hill from the water. When combined with geographic details given in the gospels (not to mention the near necessity of this location when compared to the general coastal terrain of the sea), a fair conclusion can be drawn that this natural amphitheater hosted the sermon on the mount.
Once back on land, we made our way to the city of Capernaum. As the home of Jesus for some time, many miracles obviously occurred here. One of those which has always greatly held my interest was the one found in Mark 2: the lowering of the paralytic down through the roof. I’ve always imagined this as a big house (big enough to hold a couple dozen people) with a high roof. The logical part of my brain told me that that likely wasn’t the case, but it wasn’t until today that I decidedly realized just how unlikely that was. Below is a picture of the remains of a home in Capernaum. Most were no bigger than 150 square feet, with a probable roof of no more than some 8’ off the ground.
Though for most, I’m sure the highlight of this city would be the traditional house of the apostle Peter. Resting beneath a modern church (think UFO meets 1970’s “modernism”), scholars feel relatively comfortable designating this the house of Peter. This “certainty” is largely due to some ancient graffiti found on the site associating the property with Peter.
To close out the day, we had an experience sure to be imbedded in my memories for decades to come. After a drive into the mountains we made our way up to a fairly quiet spot and listened as our guide, Elie, read from the book of the Judges. Perhaps you’ll quickly recognize the passage and its setting…
One of the more well-known stories of the period of conquest from the Old Testament, Gideon’s selection of 300 fighters has long left an indelible impression on those who study this event. To summarize: the Lord tells Gideon to watch how his men – at this point some 10,000 of them – drink from the spring of Harod. Those who put their mouths to the water – like a dog – are sent home, while those who bring the water to their mouth are deemed suitable to fight. With such a small force (and one, you’ll notice, without weaponry) the opposing Midianites are overrun simply by the might of the Lord.
Judging by the pictures below, I think we can argue that there might have actually been 302 fighters.
Of course, having actually sipped the water resting in this spring from our cupped hands, we may be in line for a parasite endemic at some point over the next 48 hours. Good times!
While there were other interesting stops throughout the day (including a recovered boat from the Sea of Galilee dating from the 1st century), it’s pretty hard to top the three that I’ve emphasized.
But I do want to end tonight’s post on a humorous note, as I know that too much history isn’t as entertaining to some. Here are a couple of videos from today. The first is of Erin having succumbed to peer pressure, while the other is of me bringing my skills to the Middle East.
Until tomorrow…
