Spiritual essence of a place is difficult to capture in words or images, so framed by pre-conditioned definitions and the

The Sea of Galilee

limitations of language. Such is the dilemma about how to proceed with insights about the Galilee. Spiritual encounter heightens the consciousness and the inner-vision so as to “see” the merging realities of tangible and intangible transforming previously held notions and emotions.

The Galilee is remarkable for its simple verdant presence. Waterfalls, homey villages, pastures, forests, and gently-rising tels (hills/mounds) contrast rather radically with the somber stone-heaviness of Jerusalem. Immediately the journey around the Sea of Galilee (which is in fact a lake, Lake Kinneret), reveals splendid beauty, tranquility, and the unifying energy of the Spring season. Temperatures in this region easily reached 80 degrees each day during our stay so fresh new life was all around. The Jordan River flows from the North, through the Sea of Galilee and continues south toward Jericho.

 

Village in Nazareth

Nazareth and Tiberius are situated southwest and west respectively of the Sea of Galilee. In Jesus’ time, Nazareth was a Jewish village under Roman occupation. Today, Nazareth is a town of 70,000 people, one third Christian and two thirds Islam. Our guide, Ghada Boulos, is a Melkite Catholic Nazarene and proudly points out that Christians and Muslims live quite amicably in this region. A massive millennial project, Nazareth 2000, was undertaken to construct new promenades on the hilltops surrounding the city, build new access routes and parking for hotels, uncover and repair the original “cobbled” streets, and renovate ancient houses—all guided with a preservationist eye toward future religious pilgrimage and modern urban convenience. Tiberius, built by Herod Antipas in honor of the Roman Emperor Tiberius, is described by one tour book as “a bizarre mix of flash and trash” because of its street fair catering to tourists. This vacation hotspot of Israel sits right on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. It so happened that our hotel was in Tiberius, a mere ten minute walk from the city centre. Accommodations were excellent and the endless smorgasbord at meal time required a nice long walk around the glitzy tourist traps still quite active into the night.   

Directly east and running north of the Galilee region, the beautiful hills of Israel and Syria are separated by a United Nation’s buffer zone, a reminder that up until the early

Banias Falls

1970’s the tumultuous history of this region was a troublesome disconnect from the messages of peace its most famous citizen proclaimed from its hilltops. Signs are posted so that pilgrims don’t end up in live mine fields. To the north, Israel’s border regions with Syria and Lebanon include some of the most magnificent and unmolested ecology in the whole of the country, including Tel Dan, Mount Hermon and the 3. Banias Falls. South of the Sea of Galilee, the ingenuity and exquisite craftsmanship of the Egyptian, Herodian, Byzantine and Crusader eras are preserved within the confines of Hamat Tiberius and Bet Shean national parks.           

In Jesus’ lifetime Galilee prospered because of fishing, farming, and small herding opportunities for the 200-400 local citizens of this province belonging to the ancient Israelite kingdom. Twenty miles inland from the Mediterranean Sea and fifteen miles from the Sea of Galilee, Nazareth relied on the urban life of Galilee’s capital, Sepphoris. Sepphoris is four miles to the north of Nazareth and was important to the region because of its bustling market (souq) and opportunities for day laborers. By the time of Jesus Sepphoris was also well-known for its revolts against Roman rule. But also, local Jewish craftsman actively participated in the rebuilding of this Roman center between the Mediterranean and the Sea of Galilee. Religious leaders, messianic figures and spiritual messengers frequented this region of the kingdom, as several dynamics made the Galilee an appealing and eclectic area for spirited exchange. Jerusalem, the religious and spiritual center of Judaism, represented the nationalism that emerged after the period of Exile and the legalism of the Torah. The Galilee was more firmly imbued with the spirit of the prophets that tended toward a philosophical exploration of inclusivity and universalism. In Jesus’ day, the region drew its fair share of nationalists (such as the Zealots) and legalists (such as the Pharisees), but the prophetic voices of a new era had an equal opportunity to be heard. Additionally, the social world of the peasants provided ample exposure to ideas brought from other places by builders and traders traveling to the Roman capital only four miles from Jesus’ home village.             

Art depicting Jesus' first miracle

Mother and Son
Jesus’ first miracle recorded in the gospel of John (2.1-12) takes place at a wedding in Cana, a place “unknown from the Old Testament,” but comes to life at a Franciscan “wedding chapel.” From the gospel, it would appear that this inaugural event in Jesus’ ministry was a family affair. His Mother, disciples, and brothers accompanied him. Of regional weddings we were told that gifts such as olive oil, dried food and wine are still welcome contributions as the couple becomes part of an extended family. The new couple will be expected to lighten the economic burden, helping the expanding family to live sustainably. To this day, family members invited to a wedding are welcome to bring guests. It seems that Jesus did just that, as Scripture records that the first disciples, who were called just in advance of the wedding story, attended the wedding at Cana as Jesus’ guests. Today, several sites at Kfar Kana near Nazareth recall the miracle, but no claim is made that there is evidence for knowing an exact location where this miracle took place. Shopkeepers boast that “in the morning, all our wine began as water,” but they make no assertions about the exact place of the miracle. What is known is that over hundreds of years great efforts were made to protect the commemorative location which in itself lends some credibility to the possibility that the miracle happened at least in the near vicinity. The current Franciscan church was built in 1881. It stands on the remains of a 6th century church or synagogue and a 3rd century mosaic floor with an Aramaic inscription “honoring the craftsman” who installed it, rests beneath the 6th century remains. So, why was the third century building put in this place? Was it marking something historically or religiously significant? A church or synagogue built on or over a previously existing building tends to have some relationship to earlier use of the site. Over the centuries, evidence piles up, layer upon layer, that something unusual happened and was relayed in the oral tradition of the locals. The closer the layers get to the first and second century, the more likely the site correlates to the time of Jesus (usually not to Jesus himself). These layered testaments still witness today by preserving the story of Jesus who lived and ministered in this region, and of this there is little doubt. Exactness is a post-Enlightenment expectation that really is not needed in order to sense a deeply spiritual connection with the living Christ, although some pilgrims do become discouraged over the lack of certainty about the various commemorative locations. In my case, it sort of heightens the intrigue—which is always stimulating.

Basilica of the Annunciation in Nazareth is a fascinating example of how construction in this part of the world often creates a seamless view through the ages just by entering the space. The Basilica was designed by Italian architect Giovanni Muzio and built between 1955 and 1969. It has been constructed over the Grotto of the Annunciation, believed by many to be the site of Mary’s home and possibly where she encountered God’s messenger Gabriel. The cleverness of an architect in this part of the world is revealed when the centuries of history located on a site are preserved and accentuated by the design of the space in such a way that the layers of tradition can be exposed and appreciated in a contemporary worship setting. Here, for instance, spiraling up from the simple, ancient grotto, a mosaic floor from a church dating to 356 CE is preserved as part of a sanctuary built on ruins from a twelfth century Crusader church. This constitutes the lower level of the Basilica, which is maintained in a simple, darker monastic style. The outer walls are built up on existing walls from the Crusader church and leads to a second level of the Basilica which has another sanctuary and chapel. This more contemporary worship space is lined with Madonna and Child mosaics from around the world. A dome with an impressive skylight sends rays splashing through the levels, landing precisely at the entrance to the grotto cave beneath the first level. Standing on the second level and looking down reveals an incredible view through the centuries of belief. Excavations under the plaza around the Basilica date to ancient Nazareth and are visible. What is also striking here is the outdoor gallery of various Madonna and Child mosaics from around the world.

Greek Orthodox Iconography

Greek Orthodox iconography explicitly writes the relationship of Jesus and Mary as one of cooperation between divine Wisdom and human integrity. Jesus, in many early icons, wore the red inner-garments of divinity and the blue outer-cloak of humanity. Theologically the red garment reminds the reader of the icon that Jesus is the self-revelation of God, known to humans through the flesh of his humanity, written in iconography as the outer-blue cloak. Mary’s warm blue internal garments are frequently wrapped with the red cloak of divinity. Her humanity is emphasized because the color blue is closest to her flesh. God’s grace wrapping itself around her gives dignity to her role and responsibilities as the mother of Jesus. Greek Orthodoxy believes that God guides the creation of the image through the inner-eye of the iconographer. “Writing” an icon, the terminology used for what it is the iconographer does when making the icon, is based on the Word-Made-Flesh. For outsiders, it is sometimes difficult to believe that the icons themselves are not the focus of devotion. Believers approach the icons with a great deal of affection, even kissing them before viewing. But the intimacy with the icon functions to invite the believer into a deeper level of encounter with the Mystery of Christ. Icons of Mary are almost as plentiful as those of Christ, a likely result of the centuries’ old devotion to the human woman who could have said “no” to God.

Jesus is given life through Mary’s fidelity, but her life is not made any easier. Known in Christian history as the “woman wrapped in silence,” Luke tells us that she “held in her heart” the joyful memories of Jesus’ birth and adolescence as he “grew in wisdom and grace.” (LK 2.51-52)  In John’s gospel, Mary says these four words, “They have no wine,” (2.3) and the protesting Jesus seemed unable to stop the momentum that produced the first miracle of his ministry. Mary follows Jesus in his ministry. After the Baptist’s imprisonment, she traveled to Capernaum with Jesus when it became apparent he would have to leave Nazareth. (MT 4.12-13) We know nothing of how long she stayed with him. On another occasion, she waits for him “outside” while he proclaims to those “inside” that whoever does the will of God is also his “brother and sister and mother.” (MK 3.31-35) Mary’s capacity for relationship within the primary Jewish social institution of family must have inspired Jesus, as he uses this as one of the earliest ways of teaching about the model of discipleship most suitable for those who received and accepted his Good News. At the end, Mary stood “by the cross.” In one last gesture of a Jewish son’s love, Jesus asked “the disciple whom he loved” to take Mary into his home and care for her. (JN 19. 25-27) In recent years as I have listened to prison ministers, I have come to realize what a devastating time it is for the family when the prisoner is executed and the family, isolated and in many cases shamed, are left to themselves to suffer their loss in disgrace. Until the last breath, Jesus is faithful to this woman who gave him human life, human dignity, human compassion. And she, to him.           

One final reflection about the importance of family in the traditions preserved in the Galilee came in an unlikely place. Sisters of Nazareth are the custodians of “a first century house, possibly belonging to Joseph.” Sr. Stefania, who guided us through the site, is herself a theologian from Italy. She was quick to point out that the significance of these first century ruins is in knowing something more about the first century in which Jesus lived. Traditions also identify another local church as the likely place of Joseph’s home—so the Sisters choose not to compete, preferring to encourage continuing exploration of their ruins from the time of Jesus. Their convent is only 150 years old, but it is built over the remains of a first century house. Some interesting dimensions of this extraordinary site include convincing clues. A bishop, sitting upright, was entombed behind one wall, a common practice during the Byzantine era. Lending credence to the argument that this was indeed a place that must be kept within the custody of the Christians, a bishop would have lived here. Crusader ruins are also found, including a well-crafted staircase. A tomb is located not far from the entrance to the first century house. While there is no way to know whose house this was or who is buried in the tomb, the fact that such long-standing and strong traditions grew up around this particular first century house, makes for a convincing argument. Not open to the public, we were able to get a walk-through thanks to our guide’s connection to the Sisters. (As a matter of fact, our guide Ghada knows just about every one in the region—at one stop a group started chanting her name as if beloved royalty was passing through! This made our adventure all the more delightful.)

Mountains and Hills
Jesus’ ministry in the Galilee took him to hillsides, plains, wells, homes of the sick and tax collectors. Tabgha is a particularly interesting place where three gospel events have been locally commemorated since before 380 CE: the Sermon on the Mount, the multiplication of loaves and fishes, and the commissioning of Peter to “feed my lambs.” In 380 CE, Eugeria wrote:  
One can see not far from Capharnaum the stone steps on which… there are also seven springs from which abundant water gushes out… it was at this place that the Lord satisfied the people with five loaves of bread and five pieces of fish… truly the stone has been made into an altar… Then on the adjoining mountain there is a cave above which the Lord climbed the mountain to proclaim the Beatitudes.”
Giving some credibility to the claims of Eugeria is the ever-present rule of authenticity. When Eugeria arrived, a practice of using a particular stone as an altar had been established. Ancient mosaics, still excavated from and preserved at the site, “depict Egyptian imagery used in early Christian art.” Now to make the claim that this is thee stone where Jesus transformed a few fish and loaves of bread into enough food to feed five thousand would be incorrect. But, because of the

Church of the Multiplication of the Loaves and Fishes

tradition that existed by the time Eugeria arrived, it would be right to say that people worked hard to keep the tradition of the story of the loaves and fishes alive in this vicinity.

The monastic setting where this gospel story is commemorated is refined, humble, and inviting. German Benedictines reside on the site and care for the Church of the Multiplication of the Loaves and the Fishes. In Mark’s gospel, the story of the feeding of the five thousand is preceded by the story of John the Baptist’s beheading and followed by the story of Jesus walking on water to rescue the disciples who were trying to return to the “other side” of the Galilee. (MK 6) Scripturally, Herod represented the very worst possible kind of ruler in that time. It is so apparent when visiting sites that there was no “middle class”—a handful of rich, with great power to subdue and oppress, and the poor peasant class who were largely responsible for maintaining the rich in the “life to which they had become accustomed.” Who was looking after the ordinary people? “When he disembarked and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.” (6.34) Having John the Baptist killed symbolically demonstrated the outrageous style of governance that drove the masses to the edge of despair. For Jesus, John’s death was a very personal experience of tyrannical injustice for which God’s mercy was the only solution. Exhausted from the days of mourning that followed John’s death, Jesus wanted to go away to a quiet place for prayer. Hills and mountains were and still are favorite places for prayer in the Galilee. Unconscionable rulers

Art depicting the multiplication of the loaves and fishes

also like hills and mountains because they could “see the enemy coming,” so they tried to grab and militarily fortify the highest peaks. Jesus, unlike Herod, cannot turn against the multitudes who found him on his mountain, even in his profound time of grief. It has been suggested by some theologians that as the crowds gathered, hearts turned away from self-interest/self-preservation and the very small amounts of food that ordinary people were fortunate enough to have were shared. Thus the 7. multiplication of loaves and fishes came not from magic, but rather the conversion of hearts.

In blog posting #7, the Beatitudes were briefly introduced. The gently rising hillside pastorally leads to the Mount of the Beatitudes. This site commemorates the Matthew 5 story but there is little evidence of a tradition that would make this claim more secure. Significantly, Tiberius, the northern part of the Sea of Galilee, and the cliffs of the Golan Heights are easily visible from the abundant garden of the Franciscan Sisters’

Church of the Beatitudes

convent. Jesus most likely chose a spot that would bind the peoples of the territory together into one universal teaching that balanced the struggles of life with the blessing of God. The
Church of the Beatitudes, an architecturally and aesthetically satisfying liturgical space, was designed by Italian Antonio Barluzzi, built in 1937 and largely funded by Benito Mussolini. Octagonal in shape, each of the eight sides is dedicated to one of the first eight Beatitudes. The dome over the simple sanctuary altar symbolizes the ninth Beatitude, “Blessed are those who suffer persecution because of me; your reward will be great in heaven.” Seven virtues (justice, charity, prudence, faith, fortitude, hope and temperance) artistically etched in Latin around the altar complete the synergy between teaching and blessing in the church.   

The Church of the Multiplication of the Loaves and the Fishes and the Mount of the Beatitudes were in my mind when we stopped to have lunch

Druze Restaurant

in a Druze restaurant. Druzes are an 11th century breakaway group from Islamism, described as “keen supporters of the State of Israel” because this is the only place in the Middle East where they are free to practice their religion. Tenants of Druze religion are known to a few enlightened Ukal, but most of the population would fall into the category of Juhal, or the uninitiated. A Druze family warmly welcomed and served us a generous lunch of delicious pitas and apples. No elegance here—just gracious hospitality and a reminder that the region’s current living stones are managing their lives with centuries-old wisdom, history, resources, and dilemmas.     
 
Early in the morning, a sherut (a van taxi carrying 8-10 passengers) took us to the top of Mount Tabor (Har Tavor) and the Basilica of the Transfiguration. Rising abruptly out of the Jezreel Plain, the great Tabor Oaks keep the narrow, winding road from eroding into the valley below.

Basilica of the Transfiguration

Tabor is situated in a border region where many wars have been fought, including the attack on the Canaanite king Jabin of Hatzor led by the prophetess and judge, Deborah in the 12th century BCE. Sometime before 422 CE, this site began to be associated with the Transfiguration event described in Matthew’s gospel:
After six days Jesus took Peter, James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light. And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them, conversing with him. Then Peter said to Jesus in reply, “Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah. While he was still speaking, behold, a bright cloud cast a shadow over them, then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” When the disciples heard this, they fell prostrate and were very much afraid. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Rise and do not be afraid.” And when the disciples raised their eyes, they saw no one else but Jesus alone. (17.1-8)
Mosaic crosses, forbidden after 422 CE to be placed where they could be walked on, are present in the Grotto of Christ. The current Basilica was built in 1921, featuring two towers and incorporating the remains of sixth and twelfth century churches. Viewing Galilee from this spot is filled with the energy of mystery and grace.    

Waters of Life
The Galilee shore was particularly tranquil and inviting during our stay. The Sea of Galilee is fed by the Jordan River and the major source of drinking water for much of Israel. “In the starlight, Galilee has no boundaries but the broad compass of the heavens,” wrote Mark Twain. Already in the second century there are recorded reflections of pilgrims coming to these waters for renewal, inspiration and even baptisms. Considering the persecution of those who first participated in the worship and lifestyle of what was essentially a movement anchored in discretely concealed “house churches,” it was quite a risk for the earliest Jesus followers to travel to these shores in the second century.

In the closing chapter, John’s gospel records a tender scene on the shore after breakfast between Jesus and Peter. Having denied knowing Jesus in Jerusalem before the crucifixion and then running away to hide, Peter’s faith had been tested. But in this final recorded encounter Peter’s heart is well-known to Jesus. “Feed my lambs.” “Tend my sheep.” “Feed my sheep.” Christian tradition has made much of the encounter in terms of what Peter was to actually do and the role he would take in leading believers. Jesus leaves him on the shore with the words, “follow me,” (19) the very words he used when he called Peter to join him in his ministry. The simple Church of the Primacy of St. Peter sits on the shoreline to commemorate the fish breakfast and exchange between Peter and Jesus that no doubt gave Peter much-needed relief from what must have been deeply distressing recollections of having abandoned Jesus at the time of his arrest and crucifixion. Inside the church, a small rock in front of the altar marks the spot where tradition says the breakfast fish were served. A fourth century church was built over the rock (“The Mensa Christi,” the table of Christ) but was destroyed in a Persian invasion in 614 CE. The current site features a set of steps from the second century leading up to the church. The Church of the Primacy of St. Peter, striking for its use of regional black basalt, was built in 1933 by the Franciscans. Paul VI was the first pope to visit this place, where it is claimed by many Peter received a mandate to care for the sheep, thus inaugurating a papacy.        

Boat ride on the Sea of Galilee

Visiting the region requires a full-spread luncheon featuring “St. Peter’s fish.” Gloriously bright salads featuring every kind of vegetable grown in the region are served in advance of the main course. Fish happens to be a favorite food, so eating a whole one, recently snatched from the Galilee and grilled over an open fire—head, eyes and all—was no penance! The afternoon was brought to a leisurely close with a boat ride on the Sea of Galilee.     

The Dan River is the largest of the three sources of the Jordan River. Hundreds of local springs flowing into the River are fed by snow and rain from nearby Mount Hermon. Until 1967, the Dan River was the primary water source for Israel. After the Six Day War, and largely because of many conservationist efforts, the Dan became the “Tel Dan Reserve,” which includes 120 acres of flora and fauna. “The water of rivulets contains a world in itself. The islands in the river are home to marsh fern, a northern fern that disappeared from the Hula Valley and can only be found in Israel here along the Dan River. This is the southernmost distribution of the marsh fern in the world.” Syrian Ash, St. John’s wort, Pistachio trees, Jerusalem thorn, and Laural are all easily observable to Spring visitors. Several species of fish, such as the Damascus barbell (known for its love of quick flowing water and ability to “climb a waterfall”) and the pale yellow, spotted Jordan loach is easily seen squirming among rocks in the riverbed, shimmering through sand. Not surprisingly, the Egyptians found this area to be irresistible and established the city of Laish during the Ceramic Neolithic Age. The Biblical tradition of Judges (18.27-29) records that Joshua conquered the city and, because of rampant idolatry, the city gained a bit of a reputation. The city was inhabited through the Roman period and today the Ancient Dan, first excavated in 1966, is one of the most dramatic archaeological sites in all of Israel. An inscribed fossilized tablet (late 19th century BCE) was found during the excavation with the words “house of David.” This is the only non-biblical reference to the house of David to be uncovered.      

Hermon Stream at Banias (Caesarea Philippi) is remarkable for its beautiful pastoral presence. “The Hermon Stream flows forcefully though a steep canyon for about a mile and a half. The steep gradient creates a powerful flow, allowing the stream to dig deeply into the canyon and produce waterfalls.” Natural pools collect the water throughout the area, often sitting under great old Syrian ash, European nettle and willow trees which are ubiquitous. Eventually the Hermon Stream connects with the Dan Stream, uniting to form the Jordan River.       

Banias Waterfall provided one of the most reflective and energizing hikes of the journey.           Carpeting the rocky ridges around the waterfall, blue lupin, lip fern, wall pellitory and pennywort mingle with hyacinth squill, blue water speedwell, bur-reed, and many other tiny wildflowers which enjoy year round moisture, sun and warmth. Grape vines, walnut, date and fig trees are also found in this area, primarily the result of abandoned orchards.

Temple of Pan

It is in Caesarea Philippi, walking beside the water, that Jesus asked the disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” (MT 16:13-20)  Not far from Banias Falls, the Temple of Pan stands as an imposing reminder of the Greek culture’s influence on this region. Pan, the god who lived in nature, was much adored. The temple was replaced in the first century when Herod the Great built a temple in honor of his patron, Emperor Augustus. Jesus’ question to Simon certainly picks up the theological milieu of Banias (which is the Arabic word for Paneas, the deity Pan).

“Who do you say that I am?” This is, of course, the question that all pilgrims carry to and from the Galilee, and into the rhythm of their ordinary lives to which they return. Clarity comes not in words, but in a transforming spirit which touches the hem of the cloak, as in the story of the woman who hemorrhaged for twelve years. We visited an area very close to where tradition says this encounter between Jesus and the woman took place. In the story, Jesus was startled by her and asked, “Who touched me?” These are the two questions that balance the Christian journey: Who am I who dares to touch Christ? Who is Christ who dares to heal the wounds of a hurting world?       

Many in Israel today feel that past wars have been fought over land, but the next war will be over water. Sadly, as we returned from the Galilee we were greeted with the news that deaths mounted in the Gaza during our time away (about 120 over a two-week period). We arrived home at 5:45 in the evening and by 7:00 p.m. eight Israeli students at a local Jewish seminary had been killed by a former employee at the seminary and in retaliation for the deaths in the Gaza. It has been difficult at points in this trip to manage the spectrum of feelings. Tensions are high, and as our marvelously talented and wise Galilee guide pointed out, “If someone just pushes someone else on the shoulder, there will be fire.” Coming back to Jerusalem from the Galilee, the rock transitions from black basalt to light limestone—and with it the whole psycho-spiritual dynamic of place-based living and dying. In this fifth week of Lent, the focus on new life is anticipated by many local Christians who are committed to regional peace.