Hello everyone! Randy has logged the last couple of blog entries, since I’ve been pretty wiped out with the dig. We’ve had some great adventures, too. Yesterday our replacement passports (for Susannah and me) arrived, so we feel like we’re getting back to normal. We’ll be going on a “dig fieldtrip” in about a week and a half to Petra in Jordan, so we’re glad we have the passports that we will need for that.
The fieldtrips happen on the weekends, and weekends over here are Friday and Saturday. Sunday is a full-blown workday. Last Saturday the dig group went to Maresha, and Randy and Susannah went along. It is a fantastic site. I had visited it once before, and was very impressed with it, so I’m glad that Susannah could see it. I didn’t go this time because, well, I needed a true “Sabbath.”
Anyway, the last time I wrote, I had brought you up to speed on our visits to the Embassy in Tel Aviv, and our visits to some of the sites within close distance to Ginnosar. So, now for more!
Megiddo
We drove by the site of Megiddo each time we drove to or from Tel Aviv. It is right off the main highway, as it has been situated for millennia. The afternoon after our passports were finally in the “works,” we decided that we had to stop and enjoy this site that we had only been able to point out to Susannah. It is a fantastic site, and if I ever bring a group over here, you can be sure that Megiddo will be on the tour. It had a lot of Rockefeller money behind the big excavations on it several decades ago, and it has been well presented. A visitor’s center has a good restaurant and a wonderful model of the tell of Megiddo (a “tell” is a flat-topped mound or hill that holds the remains of an ancient city in this part of the world). A tell is often excavated like a layer cake, with excavation trenches in a small plot peeling off layers of ruins and dirt and artifacts from each of the “occupation layers” of a site. Obviously, the newer remains of a city or occupation are near the top, and the older ones are lower, having been built upon over the ages. Megiddo has at least 20 cities folded into its mound. Occupation goes back to the Stone Age, but after the 4th century B.C. it has been uninhabited.
The entrance to the site now begins by passing through the old six-chambered gate that has been the center of much recent scholarly debate. What a great way to enter what used to be a magnificent city! Here came our shoes, clattering upon the stones that had welcomed into this city peasants and kings and pharaohs from days long forgotten. The debate over the gate has to do with the date of its construction, and with who authorized its building. I Kings 9:15 speaks of Solomon forcing his people to build up and fortify the kingdom, and lists the building of the walls of Jerusalem, Hazor, Megiddo, and Gezer in his demand. Similar city walls connected to six-chambered gates have been excavated at Hazor, Gezer, and Megiddo. This is a unique style of fortification, and it is thought that a centralized seat of authority ordered the building of these fortresses, all at the time that Solomon is thought to have lived. So, all three city ruins have been thought to have “Solomonic gates,” until recently. Now, the dating of these three gates has been reexamined, and it is thought that they should more accurately be dated about a century later. This would put this regional building project during the time of “the Omrides,” a fancy-schmancy name for King Omri and King Ahab of Israel (and two of Ahab’s sons). If this is true, it means that Omri and Ahab were much more able and strong than we have thought. It means lots of other things, too, but you get the idea. Now, that might be fine with some people, but a lot of people really don’t want to give that much positive credit to a guy who was married to Jezebel, and to a family portrayed as the locus of evil in the Scriptures.
Anyway, the site of Megiddo points out remains of impressive palace compounds, massive stables that probably stabled a large contingent of charioteers and archers, a Canaanite high place/shrine, and one of the early “proto-Israelite” houses from the early Iron Age that I’ve become so interested in seeing. Of course, the highlight of Megiddo is a pass by an enormous grain silo, dug right into the heart of the city, with spiral staircases descending the stone-lined walls, and then a walk through Megiddo’s amazing water system – if you dare!
Some of you have read the novel by James Michener, The Source. Michener based his book on the site of Megiddo, and “the source” is a spring of water that is vital to the survival of any people that live here. The actual spring that gave sustenance to the centuries of “Megiddoites” is in the bottom of a cave just outside the city gates. Early people walked from their lofty and secure town down to the spring to get water, then a type of enclosed walkway was built over the trail to the spring in later years. This was about three and a half feet wide, and it was camouflaged down the slope of the tell. Even so, it was a weak point in the defenses of a town that was often attacked (attacked because it guarded an important pass through the Mount Carmel range of mountains along the main highway between Egypt and Mesopotamia and Anatolia).
So, an eye-popping shaft of about 100 feet was dug straight down inside the city, and then a horizontal tunnel of about 220 feet bores straight through the rock like a mineshaft to meet the spring in the cave. The natural opening to the cave was then sealed and camouflaged, and the city dwellers could walk to their water source safely, right under the walls of their city and right under any enemy trying to lay siege to them. And it is very similar to a water system built at the same time as one at Hazor, and probably built by Omri or his son Ahab, you know, the kings we hate to love.
Susannah thought the water tunnel was pretty neat. Well, it is! One walks from the breezy and hot top of the tell, out of the blazing sunlight, down a modern staircase that parallels ancient stone steps worn by many, many feet over the centuries. The modern staircase then begins to wind downward past damp walls, into a dark and narrowing shaft. Footsteps echo ominously on the modern steel steps, and one can only hope that the steps are installed well, for there isn’t any solid ground in sight! The air is refreshingly cooler, but it is more humid, so perspiration begins to drip across one’s forehead.
When one finally reaches the bottom, there is a long straight tunnel stretching out toward the spring. It is in an almost “A” shaped arch, consistently for over two hundred feet. Every now and then, one can see a notch in the wall, where an oil lamp was placed for light in antiquity. The chisel marks of the ancient engineers pepper the sides of the tunnel in uniform progression. There is a puddle about 9 or 10 inches deep at the very end of the tunnel. This is the precious water source that saved a city over centuries. When Susannah saw it, she said, “That’s it?” Well, it’s no Lake Whatcom, but it’s what the people of Megiddo had.
Megiddo lies at the edge of a vast and beautiful sweeping farmland, the Valley of Jezreel, or the Valley of Armageddon. “Armageddon” is probably a corruption of the Hebrew “Har,” or “mountain,” and “Megiddo;” the “Mount of Megiddo” became known as Armageddon. It is indeed the site of many decisive battles throughout history, but that’s another tale to tell another time.
Mount Tabor
Right in the center of the horizon line looking east from Megiddo, Mt. Tabor rises from the Valley of Jezreel. It is a large and rounded mountain, and it has fascinated me every time I’ve been to Israel. I have always been with other people who had little or no interest in this mountain, and we have sped right by Mt. Tabor on our way to other things. This time, even though Randy and Susannah were very tired, I begged enough to persuade them to drive to the top. It was worth it, and we all thought it was great!
Stone Age people gathered there to make flint tools, probably from about 80,000 to 15,000 B.C. There is not a good source of water there, so Mt. Tabor was only a “factory site” for the stone artisans. Mt. Tabor features prominently in the dramatic victory of Deborah and Barak over the King of Hazor, as told in Judges 4 and 5. Hosea was pretty upset about whatever type of weird worship was happening at Mt. Tabor in Hosea 5:1, and Jeremiah used this mountain as a symbol of the strength of Babylon that was about to descend (Jer. 46:18). Then Antiochus III of Syria, Alexander Jannaeus, and the Roman general Placidus also used it strategically in battles.
Several sites for the Transfiguration of Jesus were examined by early Christians, among them the Mount of Olives, Mount Hermon, the traditional Mount Sinai, and Mount Tabor. Cyril of Jerusalem decided the site had to be Mount Tabor in 348 A.D., and this was soon after declared the official site of the Transfiguration. There are amazing panoramic views of the entire area from the top, and a refreshing breeze. There are ruins peeking out all over along the narrow and winding road to the top.
It is hard to know when chapels and shrines began to be built here in honor of the Transfiguration. The travel diary of a pilgrim passing through the area in 570 A.D. mentions three chapels on top of the mountain, but then another traveler writing in 723 describes only one church dedicated to Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. Probably there was one structure with three related chapels built by the time of the first description.
Whatever was on Mount Tabor originally seems to have been standing when Tancred (a crusader type) installed a group of Benedictine monks on the mountain in 1099. They didn’t stay long. They were massacred and their buildings were destroyed by a Turkish attack in 1113. But then the Benedictines returned, and rebuilt their monastery into something more like a fort. They resisted an attack by Saladin in 1183, and Mount Tabor was then the site of several smaller battles throughout the period of the Crusades. However, the Baybars finally expelled the Christians in 1263.
There are many, many medieval ruins visible all over the mountain. There is a part of the mountain under the jurisdiction of the Greek Orthodox Church, and an equal part under the jurisdiction of the Roman Catholic Church. The road, which diminishes to less than one lane (it almost seems like a bike path with two-way vehicle traffic!), ends in a lovely tree-lined passage that stops in front of a basilica (Roman Catholic) built in 1924. This church rests upon much older foundations, with remnants of old walls spinning out and trickling down the slopes in every direction. The basilica is lovely. It is spacious, dark, cool, quiet, and prayerful. Artwork and stained glass interplay to create a wonderful place to meditate and ponder. Even so, don’t cross the little old man who tells you when the basilica closes to the public. He is pretty no-nonsense, and so what if you are praying? It’s time to GET OUT! Don’t even take time to linger over a breath-taking viewpoint. It’s TIME TO GO!
As we drove down Mount Tabor, we had to stop for ice cream bars in a sleepy little Arab village on the lower slope of the mountain. The man tending the store was very polite, and wanted to know where we were from. We have said, “Near Seattle,” when people ask, because they have probably no idea where or what “Bellingham” is, and if we say, “Washington State,” they think we are from Washington, D.C. Anyway, Randy bought a jar of Arabic coffee from the man while we were there, I bought a box of dried apricots, and the store tender seemed to know that “Near Seattle” would be near mountains and Canada. It was a brief but fun visit.
First Pass Through Nazareth, Kana, and Magdala
We decided to leave the now too familiar road between Tel Aviv and Tiberias, and take a lesser highway through Nazareth, Kana, and Magdala to return to Kibbutz Ginnosar. What a great change of scenery! From the Valley of Jezreel, Nazareth sits atop a ridge and series of connected hills. I had forgotten how high in elevation it is, relative to Jezreel! It was quite a winding drive up to Nazareth, and we saw several good candidates for the “brow of the hill” mentioned in Luke 4:29!
Now Nazareth, being mostly Arabic, has quite a different feel to it than other places. It has little markets and side streets that beg exploration, and it has a much more relaxed feel to it, overall. We saw a highway directly through Nazareth on the map, but actually driving through Nazareth was quite different. The streets parted and narrowed, then divided again. There wasn’t a 90-degree angle to any intersection that I remember. The streets seem to follow long forgotten landmarks and donkey tracks. As we became thoroughly disoriented and tangled in the web of traffic and pedestrians appearing with no warning, we were convinced we had lost the supposedly clearly marked highway.
Then, we ended up behind a bus! Yay! The bus must be going somewhere, so we followed the bus like we were glued to it. About fifteen minutes later (and quite well acquainted with diesel fumes), here we were on the other side of Nazareth, humming down the highway that we wanted. So, a bit of advice: when lost, follow a bus. It must be going somewhere!
Everything else was rather uneventful. Kana really seems like a “suburb” of Nazareth, but it sports a lovely modern minaret that had the appearance of a double candle flame at the top. It was literally all downhill to the kibbutz, since the Sea of Galilee is about 700 feet BELOW sea level. We whizzed through the hamlet of Magdala on our way to supper at the kibbutz. Magdala is about a mile up the road from the kibbutz, but we hadn’t taken the time to drive through until this journey from Nazareth. There really isn’t much to see. In a way, I think that is the way it should be. There was never much to see, and the small village feel is still there, as it was when Mary of Magdala walked through its dusty streets.
A couple of evenings, we went for a walk down by the kibbutz dock and beach. The afternoon winds that sweep across the lake have usually quit blustering by the time the sun goes down. The stars come out, and we can see the lights of Tiberias across the lake, beckoning people to late night restaurants and clubs. But it is dark and peaceful at Kibbutz Ginnosar, and we can hear frogs and crickets, and the occasional “plop!” of jumping fish. I asked Susannah and Randy, “What do you think Jesus saw when he came down to this shoreline to find a ‘thinking spot’?” You see, Capernaum is just a couple of miles east of the kibbutz.
Right away, Susannah said, “The stars.” There were a few boats out, and we pondered just how long Jesus had held Peter, Andrew, James, and John under surveillance before he approached them to be his disciples. Surely he watched them fish for some time before he called them, perhaps from this very shore. I know many of you Bellinghamsters love to watch the water, to see its changing moods and colors, and that you have your own “thinking spots” around our northwest waters. The Sea of Galilee must have provided a wonderful backdrop for thought and meditation for Jesus.
We certainly have lots to think about in our adventures here! More to follow later.
Grace and Peace,
Mary (and Randy and Susannah)
