The Old Fishing Boat

It was an amazing find.  Just an old nail.  Yet, it caught the attention of two brothers because it was so old. They had been born and raised in the Ginosaur Kibutz located on the northwest side of the Sea of Galilee.  The two brothers were amateur archaeologists and had always hoped for some kind of discovery.  On a hot, dry day of a summer drought when the waters of the Sea of Galilee had receded, they found an old nail cemented in the sun-dried mud of this ancient shore.  Curious, they  dug down and uncovered the top of what looked like a very old fishing boat.  They turned the find over to a credible archaeology group who carefully unearthed the mud-logged boat.  It was a twelve day project requiring skilled and volunteer help. Tests confirmed that it was indeed a 1^st century AD fishing boat. 



The fishing boat, discovered in 1986, shown with its unique

protective structure, is on display in the Yigal Allon Museum.
 

The boat had been preserved because of the mud.  However, bringing it to the surface made it vulnerable to drying and deterioration.  To protect the boat, it had to be submerged in a special acid for seven years.                                                                         

 

While no one knows whether Jesus ever was in this boat, it is unmistakably like one of the boats Jesus used any of the times he crossed the lake.  Certainly it was like the fishing boats that Andrew and Peter, James and John left to follow Jesus.

One thing I learned about Israel  is that it will always be a land of buried treasure.  We walked on top of layers of hidden civilizations.  Walking the historical paths of Israel, I learned some things about buried treasure:

·        Some treasures may never be found.

·        Buried does not mean absent.

·        Uncovering buried treasure is hard work.

·        To unbury too quickly can be destructive.

How many of us live with buried treasure.  Stories we don’t talk about.  Lessons we don’t share.  Compliments we only think. They are buried by our own negligence, silence, or fear. Just like the brothers who took an observant walk beside the mud-cracked, drought-dried shore, we need to live each day looking for evidence of treasure waiting to be found.  

Time to do some digging of our own.

The Synagogue in Capernaum

 

 

When I came upon this ancient ruin, I didn’t know for sure what I was seeing.  It looked like a bomb site strewn with rubble. Leveled buildings only a couple of rock layers high tell us where something stood but not what, at least not to untrained eyes. They were black basalt stones arranged like dominoes ready to fall.

White limestone, some rose-stained, gave clear form to a synagogue planted on a stone slab.  This structure, squared and pillared, isn’t the synagogue, the one that Jesus came to with Peter and Andrew. 


However, it is built upon the one Jesus visited and shares supporting foundation that can be identified by the black basalt stone, the most accessible building material in the area. 

 (The picture to the left shows the black stone line in contrast to the more recent limestone on top.)


What surprised me the most, what I had never known about synagogue buildings, was the way you entered the synagogue.  There are steps into the synagogue:  three very high, narrow steps.  They are so narrow that the only way to use them is to plant your feet carefully sideways.  Also, the opening into the synagogue is low so that even at 5’2” I have to bend to step in.

I found out this was not accidental construction.  For people who had lost their temple in Jerusalem, who could no longer bring their sacrifices for sin and thanks, no longer hear a priestly prayer; it seemed the synagogue was built as a prayer to God.  To enter, you had to lower your head, watch where you placed your feet, enter one at a time, and bow in prayerful reverence.  You could not run into this holy place; you could not hurry.  By design, you changed your pace and posture  to spend time with God.

I can just imagine what would happen if we re-designed our entrances this way.  Our desire for efficiency and comfort would make us revolt.  No building committee would ever sign off on such.  But what if we did it in other ways?  What if we considered coming 5 minutes earlier to take a slower walk into the building?  What if we made our drive to church the beginning of our praise, thanking God the beauty we see, the family we share, the people we love?  What if worship smiles showed on our faces as we entered our places of worship?  What if we taught our children how special this place is so that we enter with expectancy wondering what God will say to us today?

What if . . .

Dan-A Place of Disobedience and Discovery

Water.  We take it for granted.  The people of Israel never have.  Promised Land may have flowed with milk and honey, but it never flowed with easy water.  So when water gushes somewhere, it is a place of luxury in Israel.  Such is the gift from the 120 acres now reserved as Tel Dan National Park.  This rambling piece of land has the only gushing stream in Israel.  Sourced by an underground spring, it shares its precious wealth with the Jordan River.  As it does, the waters transform this area into a green and wooded land beside clear water, an oasis in the desert.

 

This is the gate that Abram may have passed through when he chased the enemies that kidnapped Lot.  The idea that Abram passed by here was an incredulous realization.  This area pre-dates Abram's story of raising up a people of God.  The stone entrance features the oldest stone arch ever unearthed.  Such history abounds here. The cover gave protection for these fragile findings, but we appreciated the little shade it gave us, as well.

But this land also tells a story that is not just filled with beauty and relics.  It reminds us why God is a jealous God and requires whole-hearted faithfulness.

 

Fast forward to the time of Judges, the time when everyone did what was right in their own eyes.  Here is where the tribe of Dan settled after they met Micah, the man with his own collection of gods.  Not only did Danites steal his idols, they stole the family-appointed priest.  Their rationalization twisted God’s plan with careless self-centeredness.  “Wouldn’t it be better to serve our clan than just your family?” And idols were there to stay.

We came to the four horns of the altar.  It looked like an iron canopy for a very large bed.  I have heard of grabbing the horns of the altar.  I always thought it was a old-time metaphor.  Not so.  The four posts were places that offered shelter.  Grab a horn of the altar and no one could touch you. The good news is that we don't have to go to Israel to find such safety!

Then, I turned to the rough stone stairs.  These led to the high place where Jereboam erected the Golden Calf.  My stomach turned at the thought.  They just couldn't get away from idols.  They wanted God’s blessings their way.  It was a different kind of worship war where personal preference brought them down. 

Perhaps, we should take note.