From Doug: We’ve been back over a week and I’m back in the groove. Jet lag is over, though waking at 4 a.m. bright-eyed and ready to go was a new experience. It passed quickly. I’ve been working on getting photos on the web and labeled. The labeling is going slowly, but the pics are all there. If you’re interested go to Picasa here

From Doug: We’re sitting in the Tel Aviv airport waiting to board for the 11:30 pm flight to Atlanta. We should arrive in Charlotte by 10:00 am.

Yesterday we left Tiberias in Galilee, stopping in Zippori, Megiddo, and Ceasarea Maritime on the way to drop part of the group at the Tel Aviv airport and delivering the rest of us for one more day in Jerusalem.

Zippori was a huge archeological dig. It was Charlotte to Nazareth’s Salisbury in Jesus’ day. It is speculated that Joseph and Jesus did their “artisan” (from which we’ve assumed that they were carpenters) business in Zippori since it was only a few miles from Nazareth.  It was a pretty prosperous city, with a mix of Gentiles and Jews. Absolutely amazing mosaics. We walked along the Roman-built streets and tripped over the

Chariot and cart ruts in Roman road in Zippori

chariot ruts.

Lunch was a special treat for us non-kosher Americans. We ate at a restaurant run by a secular kibbutz that served pork ribs! To get approval from the government, they have raise the pigs on wooden platforms so that they don’t desecrate Israeli soil. Not exactly free range hogs. I have not during this trip gained any more appreciation for keeping kosher.

We concluded yesterday with a trip to Casearea on the Mediterranean. Another city built by Herod the Great to ingratiate himself to the emporer. An amazingly successful suck-up. The city shows up often in scripture: the baptism of the first Gentile, and the trial of Paul. And it has a wonderful 1st

1st-c aquaduct bringing water to Ceasarea from Mt. Carmel, 17 miles away

century aquaduct running along the shore.

Today was free. Beth and I attended worship at the Anglican cathedral. Suffice it to say that an elegant Oxford accent does little to cover up a lousy sermon. We walked through Mea She-arim, the ultra-orthodox neighorhood, and entered the Old City and walked through the narrow alleys and souks again to wander the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, this time without a group of forty. This place, as I’ve said before, is a huge monstrosity of a building, but full of ancient nooks and crannies, and priests of several traditions living under one roof, not always harmoniously. Today, we kept following our nose down narrow, dark steps until we found ourselves in a chapel that was clearly below the laid foundation. It was carved from the limestone rock that was left after the old quarry was played out. We were under Golgotha as near as I could figure. We looked more closely and found along the walls thousands of carefully carved crosses etched in the stone by early pilgrims.

The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is holy for me in part because of the sites it covers, but mostly because of those crosses. The crosses represent the  pilgrims (the “cloud of witnesses”) that nourish my faith as much as the places they came to venerate.

I’ll make one or two posts in the next couple of days, primarily to share the website you can go to in order to view my photos, should you feel called. Or, if you are a member of St. James, Concord, you can see some of the pictures with commentary during Wednesdays after supper in Lent.

Thanks for your prayers and interest. It’s been a great trip, but we’re looking forward to mixing dairy and meat (say milkshake and hamburger), sleeping in our own bed, and returning to friends and co-workers.

Beth:  We headed north out of Tiberias, toward the Golan Heights. First stop was Hazor,  an early Canaanite town that was later conquered  by David and fortified by Solomon.  King Ahab gets credit for the water system. Based on this and other examples we saw, he was really good at water systems. 

Much of the rest of our day was spent checking out the three springs that are the souce of the Jordan river. The first, we just crossed on a bridge.  The second and main one, the Dan (Jor-dan=from the Dan) could have been in NC – lots of water. a rushing trout stream, and plenty of green vegetation.  The excavation of the city of Dan was, as usual, up a hill, but the trail to it was beautiful. At the excavation we saw the remains (not much remains) of the altar that Jereboam built after the northern and southern kingdoms split. Dan was also the site of a leftover bunker and rusted military equipment from the 1967 war. From an overlook we could see into Syria across fields with warnings of land mines posted on the fences.   The most awesome thing at Dan for both of us though were gates that are old enough for Abraham and Sarah to have gone though them.  Made of mud brick, they are some of the earliest arched gates found anywhere. I feel sure that Doug

Canaanite gate in Dan, contemporary with Abraham and Sarah

has a picture.

From Dan we moved on to tributary  number three, the Mt. Hermon River.  another walk down to a waterfall straight from Highlands, NC, and then on to the springs at Cesarea Phillipi, where once again we saw examples of how Jewish Herod the Great was not.  He did build a nice temple to Pan though,

Capital from Temple of Zeus in Caesarea Philippi

and we were sorry to have missed, by 1800 years or so, the dancing goats.  They got their own temple. Based on what was left of the buildings and the springs, it must have been a beautiful city. It  backed up to the cliff, into which were carved ornate niches for statues that were part of the pagan temples. 

On the way to lunch at a Druze village we stopped at an overlook for a glimpse of Lebanon. Lebanese villages were on hills in the backgound, minefields in the front, and a United nations peackeeping force in the middle.

Lunch at the Druze village was one of the highlights of the trip. Druze are a Muslim sect with a mystic bent.  They dress in black and white, and the women’s white headscarfs and black dresses are easy to spot.  When the bus pulled up a woman was out front squeezing pomegranates in a hand press. 

Druze woman

Lunch choices were falafel in pita or a Druze  wrap.  The Druze wrap consisted of a thin bread, almost like a crepe, spread with labaneh (goat cheese resembling thick yogurt) and a mixture of olive oil and herbs.  It was folded, heated on a griddle, and served with green olives.  It was really, really good.

After lunch, Siam, our driver, pulled into the driveway of his frend Joseph, another driver, and a Druze. Within ten minutes Joseph and his four children had served fresh homemade bread and cookies and lemonade or cola to everone on the bus.  Made me wonder what I could instantly serve to 42 people who suddenly appeared in my driveway!   Then, in one more amazing feat, Siam backed the bus down the long driveway and back out to the street.

Beth: It’s 11:pm Jerusalem time, and we are back to the Olive Tree Hotel where we once again have good internet access. Tune in after we’ve had a night’s sleep and we will catch you up on days that have included Cesarea Phillipi, Cesarea Maritime, Meggido, Druze sandwiches, and more. We have tomorrow (Sunday) for one last thing in Jerusalem before we get on the plane late tomorrow night, hoping to arrive in Charlotte mid-morning on Monday, home time. Jerusalem is seven hours earlier than Charlotte. Good night…

From Beth: We started the day at Bethsaida, one of the three cities on the “gospel triangle” where most of Jesus ministry took place. It’s now a park, with excavations and, in the summer, canoe rentals to canoe the Jordan River. This is the village where Peter lived, (when he wasn’t hanging out at

1st-c fisherman's house in Bethsaida. One of several rooms. These guys were middle-class businesmen

his mother in law’s) but there would be no way to get a fishing boat to it now. The sea of Galilee is much lower than it once was.

Israel is a land of dramatic topographical changes. We went from sea level or below to 9,000 feet up in the Golan Heights in what seemed like no time. The Golan Heights were taken from Syria during the Six Day War in 1967. It is still pretty militarized, with Israeli Defense Force trucks and United Nations observers passing us on the road. At the bottom of the mountain were orange trees and bananas. At the top of the mountain we could have been in Ireland. Everything was green and rocky, and there were even dolmens similar to those in Ireland – stacks of rock made by stone age people for reasons unknown. All along the trail were wild flowers, including lots of wild purple cyclamen. We watched really big vultures flying overhead. A class of very young Israeli soldiers appeared to be getting a lecture on them.

After a few more historical stops, [look how jaded we’re getting over these first-century houses and Byzantine churches, built a thousand years before Europeans showed up in America, unless you count the possible wandering Scandinavian—Doug] we ended the day with an olive oil tasting followed by a wine tasting. As we shopped following the olive oil tasting we understood why they kept the bread so carefully covered – a dozen or so sparrow sized birds lined up on the counter the minute we left it.

From Doug: We met today with Abuna Elias Chacour, the archbishop of the Melkite Church in Israel, the largest Christian denomination in the country. The Melkite Church is Greek Orthodox in form, but is under the authority of the Roman Catholic Church. Abuna Chacour welcomed us in his office in

Elias Chacour, Archbishop of Melkite Church in israel

Haifa, Israel’s primary port city. I can’t do justice to our two hours together. I will say that it has been some years since I heard someone who moved and inspired me more. He is an Arab Christian, whose family has lived in the land for many generations until they were forced into refugee camps in Lebanon. He is a passionate advocate for the rights of Arabs in Israel, and prominent peace activist, having been nominated several times for the Nobel prize. While he is very critical of the Israeli government’s push to move Arabs out of their villages and towns, he is very quick to say, “We want your friendship, but not if you make your Jewish friends your enemy. There are enough enemies in the land.” Toward the end of our time, he said something really helpful to we who are in the midst of our Holy Land site-hopping. “You have visited the Holy Sepulchre? (The Jerusalem church encompassing Golgotha and Jesus’ Tomb) Good. I’m glad. You know, when you go inside—don’t bump your head—there is an embalming slab. Well, you know, it isn’t the real thing. It’s marble they send over from Carrera, Italy not that long ago. But on that marble is something you should remember. It says, in Latin, ‘He is not here; he is risen.’ You will not find Jesus here. You will find Jesus in your work for justice and reconciliation at home. So, yes, go to the sites, do your pilgrimage. Then go away. Go home. What God desires of you will happen there.”

I’m delighted to be here, and I’m fascinated to learn how sites are considered authentic, that is, they are what they say there are, or “traditional”, sites of long-standing veneration of Jesus at a purported site connected with his life. And I’m learning a lot that will deepen my understanding of the biblical story. But in the end, the most important sites are not Jerusalem and Bethlehem, but Salisbury and Concord.

But we didn’t go home today. We left Haifa to Nazareth, to the Church of the Annunciation, the pretty likely site of Jesus’ boyhood home, say a 3 to a 4. Nazareth was a town of 120 or so then, but now it’s a town of 20,000 or so Arab Christians. The Catholic Church of the Annunciation (presumably over the site of the home of Jesus) is a 1968 modern building built of cast concrete with chandeliers that look like dirty street lights. I loved it. The Greek Orthodox Church of the Annunciation is supposedly over the site of the well. It’s standard, but beautiful old Orthodox. Lots of gold lamps, heavy black carved wood, dark corners, icons. We entered immediately after a funeral so the air was thick with incense. I loved the place.

We’ll be in Galilee, based in Tiberias, through Saturday. Saturday night will be back in Jerusalem, with a flight out about 11:00 pm Sunday.

From Doug: It’s been two days since I last posted on this blog. Yesterday began with a visit to a fifth century synagogue initially unearthed by an En Gedi kibbutznik when preparing to plant date palms. Since then we have seen two more similarly ancient synagogues discovered on the property of kibbutzim. They were built when Jews were in decline in Palestine, already a minority to the Christian majority. Simple buildings but with beautiful floor

5th-c synagogue floor mosaic in en gedi at Dead Sea

mosaics. But everything in Israel is political. Synagogues and other archeological evidence of Jewish residency in the land is always preserved and publicized so that the best case can be made for the historically continuous presence of Jews in the land, so that, if partition between Israel and Palestine ever comes to pass, Israel can make the broadest claim possible.

We ended the day at the Jordan River where our group joined together for an Affirmation of Baptism service, with Dr. Luker flinging water from the river across the group using an olive branch from the Mt. of Olives. Afterward, I went to the riverbank to fill an empty diet coke bottle with water. Hopefully, I can get it home before it turns green. Along the scale of authenticity with 1 being “traditionally observed” and 5 being “certainly authentic”, this site, while claiming to be the site of Jesus’ baptism, is probably a 1 or 2 on the scale. John the Baptist’s work was largely in the Judean wilderness where the Jordan enters the Dead Sea. Unfortunately, that site has been closed for some time by the Israelis for security reasons; it is on the border with Jordan. The site we went to had the advantage of easy accessibility, a wonderful wooded setting, and, always important here, space for a gift shop.

Today, after our first night in Tiberias, we worked our way around the northwest corner of the Sea of Galilee. We celebrated communion on the Mount of Beatitudes, a beautiful site on a hill overlooking the lake where Jesus traditionally gave the Sermon on the Mount. Probably a 1 on the scale. Clockwise a mile or so to the spot where Jesus cooked breakfast for the apostles after his resurrection. Again, a 1. Then, another mile to Capernaum, Jesus’ base during his ministry. Some of the little town of Capernaum is excavated, including the home (or foundation of the home) of Peter’s mother-in-law. Likely, this is where Peter based his fishing business, living with his mother-in-law when in town. It was also where Jesus stayed when teaching in the area. I looked at the next door basalt foundations and imagined the first-century residents saying to each other, “Looks like Jesus is back in town staying with Peter again. I bet they’ll be up late, playing the stereo too loud like last time.” Give this place a 4 or 5 on the scale. It’s one of the few places, such as the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, that we can look and say with some confidence, Jesus was here. He walked on these stones, slept in this room. One reason scholars have some confidence about this is that the house, because of tools found in it, clearly belonged to a fisherman in the early part of the first century. But by the year 50 or so, items showed up that indicated it was used as a worship site, a place of veneration. It was probably one of the first house churches.

Outside of Capernaum, we took a boat ride to the other side of the lake. A mile or so out, we looked back to the eastern shore and saw almost the entirety of the territory Jesus’ ministry, just a handful of square miles within a triangle made up of Capernaum in front of us, Corazin on a mountain a little further inland, and Bethsaida to our right on the north shore. We were far enough out not to see the asphalt roads and wire fences, the plastic pop bottle along the shore. We could see on a hazy day only green rolling hills, trees along the ridges, and fields of new green wheat, not far from what it would have been 2,000 years ago.

Tonight, Beth and I walked into modern Tiberias, not a town catering to Americans. People were nice enough. It was just difficult to find someone speaking English. I picked up a diet coke with a few other things from a market. When I got to the register, the employee was clearly asking if the coke was cold (and more expensive). I said, “The coke is not cold.” She didn’t understand. The man in back of me understood me and said to the employee, in heavily accented English, “He said, the coke it not cold.” I quietly said to him, “Maybe in Hebrew.” He laughed and said, “Of course.”

A few hours ago, our group of Americans gathered in the basement of the hotel for the inauguration of Barack Obama. We must have been a sight to all the old Russian Jews we share the hotel with. We applauded at the tv, and stood and sang the Star Spangled Banner at the end. A moving experience for us, probably especially because we are so far from home.

Tomorrow we will meet with Archbishop Elias Chacour, a Palestinian Christian who is a powerful voice in Israel for peace and justice in Israel and the Palestinian territories.

Also, internet access is very expensive here, so we’ll keep making periodic postings, but probably not checking emails. If any who read this need to contact us, please send a comment on the blog. If it is private, I can read it and reply to it without it being posted

wadi arugot

from Doug: It’s almost bedtime, earlier tonight since we begin again the routine of 6 a.m. wake-up calls tomorrow. It’s been nice to spend two days in the Ein Gedi kibbutz guest house. People have been here at the end of Wadi Arugot in the Judean Wilderness for 6,000 years, no doubt slathering themselves with mud and bobbing in the Dead Sea to improve their skin and gain inner peace. Beth said yesterday that I thought the spa experience “was a once-in-a-lifetime” event. I hope it’s clear I meant I do not feel a need to ever do that again. (I should say more about kibbutz life, but that will have to wait.)

This morning, I got a key to the back gate of the kibbutz and walked into the En Gedi Nature Reserve, a wonderful park that preserves this area of deep canyons (“wadis” in Arabic, “nahals” in Hebrew) that empty out rain from the Judean desert into the Dead Sea. However, very little reaches the Dead Sea anymore because it is diverted for irrigation. That’s part of the reason it drops three-feet a year. It will soon be the Dead River.

Anyway, I hiked up Wadi Arugot adjacent to the kibbutz about one-and-a-half hours into the desert. The wadi started out dry, but as I hiked up, the dry bed soon became a green algae-filled pool, then later, a running brook and four-foot falls, a big deal aound here. I love the North Carolina mountains, but there is something especially awe-inspiring about the barren red cliffs and tan  rocky mountains in the distance. Except for the reeds and small trees along the stream, there was nothing green and nothing to shade me once the sun was high enough to shine into the wadi. Even better, I met no one on the hike until I was most of the way back down the stream bed. Over fifteen minutes or so I passed five or six women in habits heading up the wadi. I guess it was nun discount day in the national parks. The hike was more relaxing and renewing than the spa trip by a long shot.

Tomorrow we head out of the Judean wilderness where we have been for several days, where the faith of Israel germinated, where John baptized  (at the Jordan just before it empties into the Dead Sea), and where Jesus did his discernment retreat after his baptism. We head toward the north of Israel, where we will spend most of the rest of our trip in the Galilee, based in Tiberias. Our day finishes tomorrow with an affirmation of baptism service at the Jordan. Again, we do not know what access we will have to the internet to make posts, so daily posts may not be possible.

ibex along wadi arugot ridge

Saturday, January 17 (Beth) Ein Gedi is the spring on the Dead Sea where David hid from King Saul, and it gets a mention in Song of Songs. Since 1956 it has also been a kibbutz in the desert in a narrow stretch between high cliffs and the dead sea. The six day war in 1967 made possible a road from Jerusalem, and since then tourism has topped agriculture as the major industry. This was a “retreat day.”  We woke up without having to set the alarm and hiked up the hill to breakfast.  Food here is wonderful – and interesting. There is always salad for breakfast. Today I had a Yemeni pastry that was like baklava without the sweet. It was served with tomato sauce.  Also a hard boiled egg, really good fruit, and halva. The afternoon adventure was the Ein Gedi spa.  First we plastered ourselves

Doug mid-therapy

with thick black mud. We’ll post the picture of Doug. I had the foresight to wait until Doug’s hands were muddy so you’ll have to take my word for my participation.  When the mud dried, we washed it off in the warm sulfur spring water, then took the cart to the Dead Sea to float. Floating was easy. Getting our feet back on the ground, not so much.  The beach was pure white salt.  Another 15 minutes of floating in a warm sulfur pool and we were beyond relaxed. We’re here another day and night.  Doug is about ready to do some hiking in the desert, but I think I could get used to just sitting in the sun listening to the birds.  All that’s on the agenda for tomorrow is a tour of the kibbutz – or another trip to the spa! Doug says that for him, the spa is a once in a lifetime experience.

From Doug: No kidding, a spa. But first, we left Eilat in the far south of Israel earl this morning. We learned that the reason the hotel was swarming with kids and families was that the Israeli government is paying for families in towns near the Gaza Strip (where the rockets have been falling) to go to Eilat for a while.

The main stop today was Masada, the two-thousand year old fortress on top of a thousand-foot cliff overlooking the Dead Sea. It was built by Herod the Great as a southern fortress and palace (though he may never have made it there.) But for modern Israel, the essential story is of the Zealots, rebels against the occupying Roman government, who made a last stand at Masada in 73 AD. The Romans took two years to build a huge ramp to roll up a siege machine and it was all over. But before the Romans breached the wall, the Zeolots put their names on potshards (which still exist) to decide who would be the last left to kill the men who had the job to kill their wives and children. In the end, only two widows and two children survived out of nearly a thousand. Today, Masada is a symbol of Israeli nationalism and freedom over slavery. To me, it’s all a little over the top. But then, there is no way I can comprehend or understand the experience of Jews before or after nationhood in 1948.

A few miles up the coast from Masada is En Gedi, the kibbutz and spa. Also the place David went to hide from Saul who was looking to do him in. It’s the desert with huge cliffs and deep canyons, wadis in Israel. A little like the high plateau in the southwest US. This is mid-trip pause, where we can slather mud on each other and float in the Dead Sea, hike in the nature reserve and stroll through the botanical gardens. (It’s desert, but think oasis in the desert.)

I confess a few days of wandering on my own will be a treat. I’m getting tired of being herded from spot to spot on someone else’s agenda. A necessary evil.