Sea of Galilee

We took a boat ride on the Sea of Galilee. The Sea is a bowl of  fresh water set among the hills of the Jordan valley.  It is thirty-three miles around and is the largest lake in Israel.   686 feet below sea level, it is also the lowest body of freshwater on earth. The Jordan River is its source.  Underwater springs also keep it flowing.  

I shouldn't be surprised about the hotel-lined shore and sailboats on the water.  What else do people  do with a beautiful lake?  But still, this is sacred space for everyone whoever heard the life-changing words, "Follow me."  So I must push mind beyond matter to consider the meaning of this place.

 

Water shimmered like draping for a display.
Mottled land slid into the Sea.
This is where Jesus lived after cousin John was imprisoned;
Where he fed thousands on the hillside with loaves and fish--twice.
It’s where he gave a deaf man his hearing and a voice,
      where Jesus slept during a storm,
      where he walked on water,
      where he had fish on a fire waiting for unsuccessful fishermen,
      where Peter was restored,
This body of water set the scene for so much,
And sitting in a wooden boat
While a Karaoke-style ensemble
Belts out crowd-pleasing worship songs--
It is another disconnect
Where present reaches for the past
Unsuccessfully.
Still,
I sit on my white plastic chair in a boat in the middle of the Sea
And try not to see the hotels lining the shore.
Instead, I want to remember that
Here by the Sea of Galilee
Jesus called some ordinary men,
    Called them from monotony,
    Called them from what they expected to do
         for the rest of their lives.
He pulled their world apart;
Then, put it back together in a way they could not imagine.
They, who knew about nets and bait and pitch of boat
        and rhythm of waves
Would learn that the One who called them
Knew more about fishing than they did.
But Jesus called them to do their fishing on land--
    To cast a different net,
         To pull a different catch,
              And ride a different wave.

Nothing has changed.
The call of Jesus still turns our world upside down,
Still sends us fishing.
And what I want to know as I feel the gentle chop of Sea
                                                 Have I learned how to fish? 

The Synagogue at Nazareth

The Synagogue had several purposes.  It was the place where the village stored their scrolls in jars. It was a gathering place for celebrations, a community center of sorts.  During the week it provided a school for boys.  It was also a court house to settle village disputes.  Central to its purpose was its use to gather to read from the scrolls, the Torah.  We walked into the simple and starkly empty space.

I know it wasn’t right here in this very space.  I understand this is a reproduction.  But in a place like this, Jesus announced his mission for the first time. I can hear it . . .

Nazareth

Nazareth Village is a recreation of the life and times of Jesus. It was made for pilgrims like us.  We will walk through with a guide, a young girl with a practiced script and the poise of an international host.  She looks very much like the Mary’s in our Bible story pictures only with contemporary clothes.
Of course the main idea here is that Jesus lived in a place like this.  As I take this walk, I can’t help but look for a young Jewish boy with a smile that embraces the world.

Nazareth is a farm village. The white chalky paths remind us that these are limestone hills.   A donkey poses under the shade of a tree.  Reliable donkeys shared their backs to transport people and any number of things.  Donkeys aren’t workaholics.  They plod.  They look for easy ways.  Depend on them to cut the best path. 

Did Joseph depend on the GPS of a donkey to get his young family to Egypt?  Perhaps.  What we do know is that Jesus rode a donkey into Jerusalem.  It was a  sign of peace not war. 

The houses in the village are white mudded limestone structures.  Windows were high to increase air flow and give privacy.  An interesting wooden double door construction of a door within a door allowed the home keeper to close the larger door and leave a smaller one open.  This kept wandering horses outside but added a welcome to the village. I wish I could have spent time examining the simple tools and imagined how they were used.

 

A cooking pot over a raised fire is an interesting “burner” construction.  I can only imagine how the best cooks learned to  control their heat.

Olive trees anchor Israel because they can live 400-500 years.  Their twisted branches reach toward the sun with handfuls of silver green leaves and share shade from their spreading circumference.   Shade is just about as important here as water

Our walk takes us past a burial cave.  It looks just like the pictures we’ve seen of Jesus’ open tomb.  We learn a little about burial.  Bodies must be buried within 24 hours.  Each family has a burial cave.  When there is a death, the body is quickly prepared, wrapped, and placed in the front part of the cave.   One year later, they go back to “collect” the bones and place them in a receptacle to store farther back in the cave.  Then, the cave is ready for the next death. 

So this is like the village where Jesus grew up.  Where he found friends, learned Hebrew,  worked in the carpentry shop, grew in favor with God and man.  Still, we don't know much about these years, except what we can imagine . . .

So Jesus grew up in a village like this.   Found friends here.  Learned Hebrew here.  Worked in the carpenter’s shop here.  Grew in favor with God and man.  And still, we don’t know what it must have been like . . .

              Little boy Jesus
                      Walking chalky paths
                      Listening for his mother’s call.
            Little boy Jesus
                       With impish grin
                       And a spirit for bugs and discovery.
            Little boy  Jesus
                       Lived here with the curtains drawn
                       So that he could grow up
                       Just like every other little boy.
                                                For a while.
                                                                    --dg