Happy Israel Independence Day!

HaTikvah (the national anthem)

As long as the Jewish spirit is yearning deep in the heart,

With eyes turned toward the East, looking toward Zion.

Then our hope will not be lost,

The 2000 year old hope:

To be a free people in our land, 

The land of Zion and Jerusalem.

Second Temple Galilee, Day 2

April 26, 2009

Today I got up relatively early to walk down to the shore of the lake. It was a beautiful morning, still and shining.  Some frogs were still singing, perhaps still trying to get their tiny tadpole babies to sleep.  No wonder Jesus loved being in Galilee.

After a quick breakfast we hopped on the bus and again headed into the eastern heights.  This time our destination was the famed site of Gamala - "the Masada of the North."  The site itself is pretty spectacular, a rocky and narrow hill, like Hippus with valleys on 3 sides and a narrow saddle on the 4th, looking down at the sea of Galilee.  There's a waterfall nearby, and eagles nesting in the cliffs.  

We clambered down the mountain and across the saddle to the remains of the synagogue where we paused to discuss site identification.  See, archaeological sites don't usually come with signs attached: "To the excavator:  Congratulations!  You've just discovered _____(name of site), mentioned by Josephus in _____(reference), and in the Bible in _______(reference)."  Instead, site identification uses a careful mix of references in ancient texts, modern toponymic connections, and archaeological finds to indentify a site.  Gamala, for instance, is described by Josephus much as I described both Hippus and Gamala, with the added detail that the hill of the city bore some resemblence to a camel's back.  He also includes some information about its location in a few texts.  Based on this sort of information, there have actually been a number of sites suggested as possible locations of Gamala.  One is Hippus.  Another, obviously, is the current site we were visiting, which currently bears the name "Gamala."  A third, though relatively close, is just over the border in Syria.  Hippus and Gamala have both been excavated, but the third site has not.  While at Gamala the archaeological evidence fits well with what we know took place there, it is not entirely convincing, at least to some.  My archaeology teacher finds it convincing, but then he is a Jew, and very pro-Israeli, and may have alterior motives for wishing to believe that Gamala is in modern day Israel.  It could be Gamala, but there are still questions and issues.  Perhaps they could be resolved by excavating the other site.  Archaeology: another reason to pray for peace between Syria and Israel.  How much we miss by not being able to go there!

After our discussion we had about an hour to climb and explore.  I went to the top of the hill which was covered by reasonably large boulders.  It reminded me of our boulder fields at camp.  I'd want to live there if I were a second temple Jew.  It's a beautiful area.  I'd rather prefer not to be there (or anywhere) when the Romans attacked, though.  Then we had the sweaty climb back over the saddle and up the hill to the bus.

On our way out we stopped at a Dolmen, which pretty much made my day.  The dolmens of Israel date to about the Intermediate Bronze Age (2200-1950 BC) and were probably used as burial structures.  We learned about them in archaeology last semester, so it was fun to actually see some.  

We made our way back to the other side of the lake, paused in a small town to buy some pita for lunch, and ended up by Jotapata (Yodfat).  After a quick lunch we hiked to the top of the hill where Jotapata had been located.  The basic geography of the city is just a variation on the same theme as Hippus and Gamala, though perhaps less dramatic than Gamala.  For those of you who have never heard of Jotapata, prepare for a short history lesson.  

During the first revolt of the Jews against the Romans (culminating with the destruction of Jerusalem in 70AD), Josephus, a priest from Jerusalem, was assigned to be commander of the Jewish forces in Galilee.  To make a long story short, he was at Jotapata when it fell to the Romans and he was captured.  He managed to ingratiate himself with the commander of the army and became their advisor.  For a  more detailed account you can read what he says about himself.  

So we spent a little time looking around Jotapata, exploring a few of the many caves, perhaps even the one where Josephus hid for a while.  Then we walked, stumbled, slid, and otherwise traveled down the hill.  At the bottom we followed a dirt road for a mile or so until it passed the hill of Khirbet Qana, overlooking the Netopha Valley.  

This is the most likely location of Cana, the place where Jesus performed his first miracle, turning water into wine.  It was a beautiful, clear day, and from the top of Cana we could see Nazareth, Sepphoris, Gath-hepher (home town of Jonah - 2 Kings 14:25), Hannathon, and even, in the distance, the rise of the Carmel Range.  This is the area where Jesus grew up.  He probably had relatives in Cana, thus explaining why he attended a wedding there.  This agricultural region of his youth is probably where he got the imagery for most of his parables.  

We walked down the hill and went further down the dirt path along the edge of the valley to where the bus met us.  It's kind of strange seeing wheat ripening in April when back home it probably hasn't begun to sprout.  From there we headed back to Jerusalem.

It was a good trip.  The smaller group was nice.  Much food for thought.  It was nice to walk and hike and see new sites.  The weather was pretty much perfect, which helped too.  Actually, it was just nice to be in the field (with Dr. Wright) again.  I've missed that this semester.   

Second Temple Galilee

This weekend I had the opportunity to go on a field study in Galilee for my Second Temple History class.  I'll try to recount some of our adventures there.

April 25, 2009

We were on the bus by 7am.  Well, most of us were.  Someone, who will remain unnamed, overslept and was a little late (no, it wasn't me).  At any rate, we soon were on our way, down the now-familiar Decent of Adumim, past Jericho, up the Jordan Valley, past Beth Shean, to the Sea of Galilee.  We headed east around the lake, driving up into the Golan Heights  along a windy and narrow road, looking across the Yarmuk valley at Jordan. 

I kind of wanted to just hop the fence between the two countries, but decided that might not be a good idea.  Instead I stayed on the bus until we reached to top of the plateau.  

It's the tail end of "spring" in Galilee, which means that its starting to dry out, but still quite green.  To top of the plateau was fairly flat, and between that and the greenness of the grass, it reminded me a bit of eastern Montana in, say, late June or maybe July, depending on rainfall that year.  

At any rate, in a reasonable amount of time we arrived at Hippus/Susita, one of the decapolis cities. 

 It's on a hill, overlooking the Sea of Galilee, surrounded on 3 sides by deep valleys, connected by a saddle to the hill behind it.  Pretty typical formation for cities.  We walked down the cardo to the ruins of some large public building which we promptly climbed on and sat down to talk.  

At most of our stops we looked at relevant texts from Josephus, and Hippus was no exception.  However, our main discussion there didn't center specifically around Hippus, but around Hellenism, and the Jewish reactions to Hellenism.  Some Jews tended to accomidate, some tended to confront, and some, probably the majority, did a mixture of the two, depending on the specific issue.  This somewhat abstract discussion actually touches on our lives and faith in two rather important ways. 

First of all, in examining the past, we are faced with the question of how Jesus interacted with the culture around him.  We know he spent much of his ministry time in Galilee, and we know that the main cities in Galilee (Tiberias, Bethsaida, Hippus, and the other Decapolis cities) were more or less Hellenistic.  With the exception of Bethsaida, the gospel accounts never mention him going to any of them.   Yet surely he must have at least passed through.  Why are the ommitted from the account?  Did he spend so little time in them that they are unworthy of mention?  Or is his time there ommitted by the gospel writters for some purpose?  In either case, we are left with the question of why.  Why didn't He go there, why didn't they write about it?  

Our answer to that impacts the second point of connection with our lives.  The Jewish response to Hellenism in many ways is mirrored by the Christian response to our culture (secular humanism, perhaps?)  So Jesus' reaction to Hellenism (confrontation, accomidation, maybe he just ignored and avoided it?) could give us an idea of how we should react.  So many questions...

Anyway, we had a little while to explore Hippus before moving on to the next site: a few churches, mosaics, 

water instalations, beautiful flowers and an unbeatable view of the lake.  

Our next stop (with lunch!) was at Bethsaida/Julius.  This is a debated site, for a number reasons.  Most of the site dates to the Iron Age.  A huge gate has recently been excavated there.  

I believe that it's the widest gate yet found in Israel, and it has standing stones and an incense altar in front of it.  The excavator, Rami Arav claims that it's the Old Testament site of Geshur and the New Testament site of Bethsaida.  Of course, to quote my archaeology professor talking about this excavator, "He was my student.  Very nice person.  Stupid man."  So perhaps his conclusions should be taken with a grain of salt. :)  The identification as Bethsaida is probably more contraversial, because we have more information about Bethsaida.  The Biblical account would lead us to believe that it was along the shore and this tel is a couple miles from the sea.  Possible solutions have been proposed: geographical changes?  satalite town along the shore?  wrong location?  It's hard to know for sure.  

From there we headed into upper Galilee, on the western and northern side of the lake.  We stopped at Baram where a Jewish synagogue is preserved.  We know that it is a synagogue because of its similarity to other synagogues, like the one in Capernaum, and because of accounts of Midieval Jews visiting a synagogue in a town by the same name.  However, if we look strictly at the archetecture, it bears quite a bit of similarity to Canaanite and Nabatean temples of the same time.  Perhaps it was a temple that was converted into a synagogue?  Well, that's interesting.

Our last stop of the day was Kadesh, where, of course, we found the ruins of a Roman temple.  (Hardly surprising with a name like that, right?)  The layout of the temple was very similar to that of the synagogue we had just been to.  Hellenism and Judaism, so close together.  What adjustments must be made?  What hills must we die on?

Kadesh is a beautiful site with fields of yellow flowers and storks (I think?) flying all around and landing in trees.  

The wind was blowing, the sun was low in the sky, it was utterly lovely and utterly lonely.  It is a site a little bit off the normal tourist track, which partly explains the lonliness.  There's sort of a similar feeling at many sites, though.  These are places where thousands of people lived and bought food and worshipped and slept and ate and gave birth and died.  And now it's all silent and covered by weeds with only a few visitors now and then.  It's an odd thought.  

We spent the night at a hostel on the north-west corner of the lake.  With good food in me and orange curtains in my room I slept well. :)  

This post is quite long enough, so I'll try to post day two of our trip later.  Oh, and by the way, my spell check doesn't seem to be working too well, so please forgive my errors in that area.  

For Yom HaShoah (April 21, 2009)

Liturgy for Holocaust Memorial Day by Eliyahu Schleifer

God full of mercy who dwells on high, Judge of widows and Father of orphans, grant perfect rest under the wings of the Shechinah, among the ranks of the holy and pure ones who shine like the light of the firmament, to the souls of our brothers and sisters who were murdered in the Shoah as we and the whole house of Israel pray in their memory.  Let the earth not cover their blood nor their cry ever be extinguished.  By virtue of their Akedah may the dispersed of Israel return to their homeland.  May the holy onces come to their resting-place.  God is their portion and let us say - Amen.

It was a beach day.  

I have to say that one thing I really love about Israel is the variety of landscapes here.  You can start in Jerusalem (hill country) and within a couple hours be at the ocean, or the Dead Sea, or Galilee, or the Golan heights.  It would be like starting on the California coast, passing through Death Valley, driving through mid-west farm land, pausing at the Great Lakes, and ending in the Rockies.  All in one tiny, hotly contested piece of land.  I think that there must be something here (land-wise) that would remind anyone of the land of their nativity.  

So today six of us took the day and went to the beach by Tel Aviv.  Most of us took a car that one of the students here has rented for a while.  Some of us were thinking about visiting a museum, but that (unfortunately) didn't happen.  Nevertheless, it was an enjoyable, and mostly relaxing, day.  I was glad I wasn't driving - the traffic and twisting, convoluted mass of one-way or taxi-only roads would have surely frazzled my nerves.  Eventually, though, we always managed to get where we wanted to go.

We spent most of our time on the beach, sitting, laying, reading, talking, sleeping, walking, taking pictures, getting sand blown in our eyes, watching wind-surfers, laughing, dancing in the waves, trying to leave footprints in the sand.  I was even inspired to write a poem of sorts (it's rough, I know, but I'm too tired to put effort into editting it):

Footprints in the sand, some shells, a rock,

All quickly washed away.

The roving waves come wandering in each hour

To seize their rightful pay.

And in their wake the beach is renewed,

Purified each day.

Perhaps we need some days like these

To clarify our minds.

To sweep from them the cares and thoughts

With which our lives are lined.

To grow closer to one another and build

Some friendships that will bind.

And as we grow to better know the One who made this shore,

We'll continually come to know the plans for us He has in store.  

Anyway, it was an enjoyable day.  Given the  choice between Dahab and Tel Aviv...yeah, I'd definitley pick Dahab.  But for a short trip, Tel Aviv was fun.  

...and now I'm going to live in the library for the next two weeks before the end of the semester.  See you then. ;) 

Holy Smoke!

...and actually, I'm not just being irreverant.  If such a thing as holy smoke exists, then that's what I expericenced today.  I suppose that technically it's the fire that is considered holy, but I figure the smoke is connected closely enough to consider it holy too. :)

I probably should start at the beginning.  If I can determine where that is.  Beginnings can be rather hard to determine and rather hotly debated in this country, believe it or not.  

Perhaps I should start with an explanation as to why Easter is celebrated on two different days here in Jerusalem.  From what I understand (which may not be entirely correct), part of the Council of Nicea (325AD) was to decide which date to celebrate Easter.  The majority of the council agreed to break away from the Jewish system of dating (thus also making a final break with the Jewish community).  However, some parties disagreed with this decision (and perhaps others too) and split from the main church.  Thus, the Eastern Orthodox and Armenian Churches celebrate Easter on a different day.  This year, that happened to be exactly one week after the Protestant and Catholic Easter.  

Perhaps next I should explain something that happens on the Saturday of Orthodox Easter weekend.  I quote from our Friday AM (school news) publication:
"'The Miracle of the Holy Fire' by Christians from the Orthodox Churches is known as 'The greatest of all Christian miracles'. It takes place every single year, on the same time, in the same manner, and on the same spot. No other miracle is known to occur so regularly and for such an extensive period of time; one can read about it in sources as old as from the eighth Century AD. The miracle happens in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, to millions of believers the holiest place on earth."

Still confused?  Just wait.

This morning I got up and was reading my Bible and eating breakfast when Cameron came by and asked if I wanted to go with them to see the Holy Fire.  He and Matt had been planning to go and had connections with people in the Amenian Church who gave them passes.  It ended up that they had an extra pass, so I decided to go with them and Terry, a worker at Jerusalem School in Beit Jala.  

We went into the old city through Zion gate and arrived at the Armenian Convent.  Eventually, some people they knew came by and invited us inside.  It's not really a convent.  It's more of a compound where quite a few Armenians live.  All their "scouts" were inside with their uniforms, drums, and trumpets, getting reading to march in the parade.  

Eventually the procession started, the band leading the way and the rest of us following on foot.  It was crowded, but not too terrible.  

As we got close to Jaffa Gate, Cameron decided that we should be closer to the band, so we snuck up and managed to start down the road towards the church, just as the police closed the barrier behind us.  I think they must have let in more people later, but we felt priviledged.  We made it past the next barrier before it was closed, passed the band, and paused before the next barrier as it was opened.  There was a bit of a crush there, and some people near me fell down, but we got through that and made it into the chruch.  Once inside we weren't quite sure where to go.  We had a couple people checking our passes and trying to tell us where to go.  Eventually we got to a place, pretty much right next to the tomb, on the south side (to the left as you enter).    

It was probably between 11 and 12 when we got into the church...so we had a long wait.  We stood for a while, and watched the people around us, 

watched people come it, etc.  It was pretty crowed, but we were able to sit down on the floor where we were, so we sat for a while and read. 

Apparently it is traditional at this time for fights to break out and for some of the Armenians (that our connections were through) to get arrested.  Apparently the police really prepared this year because there really was no fighting, at least that I saw.  

Eventually the Greek Orthodox, Coptic, and Amenian Churches began their procession around the tomb.  They walked around it 3 times.  I couldn't really see much of what happened after this, but supposedly the Israeli soldiers (which were out in great number throughout the city and the church today) 'push' their way to the tomb and 'seal' it - enacting what Matthew says the Roman soldiers did to Jesus' tomb on Saturday.  Then I think the Greek Orthodox Patriarch enters the tomb and prays.  After the prayer, supposedly God sends fire.  

I quote again from Friday AM (supposedly this is what the Patriarch sees):

"From the core of the very stone on which Jesus lay an indefinable light pours forth. It usually has a blue tint, but the colour may change and take many different hues. It cannot be described in human terms. The light rises out of the stone as mist may rise out of a lake — it almost looks as if the stone is covered by a moist cloud, but it is light. This light each year behaves differently. Sometimes it covers just the stone, while other times it gives light to the whole sepulchre, so that people who stand outside the tomb and look into it will see it filled with light. The light does not burn — I have never had my beard burnt in all the sixteen years I have been Patriarch in Jerusalem and have received the Holy Fire. The light is of a different consistency than normal fire that burns in an oil lamp... At a certain point the light rises and forms a column in which the fire is of a different nature, so that I am able to light my candles from it. When I thus have received the flame on my candles, I go out and give the fire first to the Armenian Patriarch and then to the Coptic. Hereafter I give the flame to all people present in the Church."

At this point I can again pick up my narrative.  People all around were holding groups of candles (33 candles in a bunch, I think, for the years of Jesus' life).  As the lighted candle emerged from the tomb, the fire was passed from candle to candle.  

Soon there were small blazing fires all around us.  The heat, light, and smoke were incredible.  It was actually a little scary.  

However, it didn't last for long.  Most people blew out their candles within about a minute.  I even got to help one lady blow hers out.  Supposedly, though, the fire from here goes out to churches across the globe and is used to re-light candles (or something like that).  

At any rate, fairly soon most of the candles had been extinguished.  

The churches began processions around the tomb again, people left, and police barriers inside the church started to come down.  We stayed and watched for a while and then made our (crowded) way out of the church, past the rows of police and IDF, and eventually out of the Old City.  By this time it was probably about 3:00 and we were hungry.  Terry gave us a ride to 24 (the open all-day every-day mini-mart type store) where we got pita and hummas.  Yay, food!

Anyway, I have to say it was an interesting experience, and I daresay my description hasn't done it justice, just giving the bare facts as it were.  So let me try to give some thoughts and impressions.

First of all, let me emphasize that this is a really big deal.  I heard that there were something like 10,000 people in and near the church.  The people we stood next to were Armenians from Turkey.  Basically, people come from all over, sleep in the church over night, and expend all sorts of effort to be in the church to witness this miracle.   To us in the west this behavior seems bizarre.  But it's part of their tradition.

Then there's the "miracle."  Of course, our first thought is to discount it: the Patriarch takes a lighter in with him and that's where the holy fire comes from.  Of course, they have evidence of candles outside the tomb being spontaneously lit, but I'm sure we could come up with some explanation for that too.  Probably some joker (like one of the guys I was with) snuck up behind someone and just lit their candles when they weren't looking.  Likely enough, that's what happens and there is no real miracle.  But could there be a miracle?  I don't want to put God in a box: "No, God, you can't do this.  It's too weird and unreasonable."  Certainly God is powerful enough.  And our lack of understanding is hardly a good argument.  There are a lot of things about the orthodox church that I don't understand, but I want to learn more.  After all, they do claim to be our brothers and sisters in Christ, in spite of obvious differences.  Perhaps we could learn some things from them.  

It was interesting to see the excitement and passion in all the people around me when the fire emerged from the tomb.  It was an interesting experience, just in general.  Kind of hard to describe.  I don't think I'll plan to go next year, though.  

Passion Week(s)

I have been sadly remiss in keeping you updated on the many events here in the land over the past week or so.  It's just there have been so many of them, and I've been so busy working on a paper in between times, that I haven't had time to write a complete blog.  I've started at times to write down my thoughts, but never somehow got them into a form I would be comfortable posting.  So, here and now I will try to give you an abridged update of my thoughts and experiences over the last week.

It started with Palm Sunday, a little over a week ago now.  I should specifiy.  It was Palm Sunday for the Western chruch.  Everything is celebrated a week later in the Eastern Orthodox church (at least this year).  

So for Palm Sunday a group of people gathered on the Mount of Olives, at the chruch where supposedly Jesus mounted the donkey or something like that.  They then proceded down the mount, waving palm branches and singing.  

Some JUC students joined them.  I personally watched the procession from the other side of the Kidron Valley and then joined them as they went inside Lion's Gate.  

(Actually, I also got to hang out before hand with some priests-in-training at St. Anne's.  That in itself was pretty interesting.)

One thing that I've thought about some since arriving in Israel is, well, I guess I'd call it the "emotional response" that people have to the land.  Not that emotion is all bad...I just wish sometimes that there would be a little less emotion and a little more truth and wisdom.  Holidays here seem to bring out a lot of emotion in people...which can lead to some very bad situations.  But perhaps I'll say more on that later.

At any rate, the procession was interesting and thought provoking.  

Wednesday, as I've already posted, we went on a hike.  Not really related to the holidays, but fun.  

On Thursday a group of us took the opportunity to go to the Samaritan Passover.  

Getting the lambs ready for slaughter:

This is a unique experience for many reasons.  For on thing, the Samaritans are the only group that still sacrifices lambs for passover as commanded in the Torah.  The Jews have replaced this practice with the seder meal.  I'm sure that the modern Samaritan practice is quite different from what was originated by Moses, but it's the closest thing we have.  

Preists praying and chanting before the sacrifice:

It's also an interesting experience because of the Samaritans themselves.  They consider themselves to be the real decendants of Abraham.  

Preparing the lambs:

While historically we are unsure of their exact origin, it seems likely that they are decended from the remnants of the northern kingdom of Israel, meaning that they have never been exiled from the land.  They follow the 5 books of Moses, and have done so continuously, in the land, for over 2000 years now.  Which is a better run in the land than the Jews have ever had.  Today there are about 750 Samaritains.  

About half of them live on Mt. Gerazim and speak Arabic, and the other half live in a suburb of Tel Aviv and speak Hebrew.  They are a rather unique ethinic group, with unique costoms.  All Biblical connections asside, it was a unique cultural experience.  

Hyssop dipped in blood:

We also got to see the remains of the Samaritan temple:

Friday the most interesting event was the triclinium meal we had in the evening.  

Some of the costumes:

A triclinium was sort of a Roman style dinning room with low tables set up in a U-shape and cushions for the guests to recline upon.  Probably the set up at the last supper would have been similar.   

Our Master Tecton performs some service for us, probably relighting a lamp:

There are some interesting implications to be found here, which I do not have the energy to repeat here.  Perhaps someday. :)  At any rate, we had fun attempting to recline and eat with our hands and not jostle the person next to us too much.  

Sunday was Resurrection Sunday.  By noon I had already been to two different church services at two different churches.  

At 6am I went to the sunrise service at St. Andrew's Scottish Presbyterian Church.  I was a little late.  Oops.  It was hard to get up after4.5 hours of sleep.  I think they were just finishing the first song when I arrived.  

We prayed and then moved from the garden to the front of the church where we watched the sunrise.  

We sang a little more, read some scripture, and the pastor gave a short message.  One of the things he said struck me.  He talked about John 20, when all the disciples had come together for a meeting, and most of them probably didn't even know why they had come.  There were wild rumors - the tomb was empty?  Accusations - did they know enough to go to the right tomb?  Stories of one angel, or was it two?  Mary Magdalen claimed to have seen Jesus himself, but "she was an unsteady soul, known to give in to wild exaggerations."  Then suddenly the tumult was stilled as Jesus himself stood among them.  We like to give ourselves airs today in the 21st century: of course these poor, ignorant Galileans were somehow mistaken in their beliefs.  As if any of the questions we raise today are not the exact questions they were asking that first night.  And their doubts were stilled in the presence of the risen Christ.  If any of those questions had still remained in their minds, how can we think that they would have go on to suffer and die as history tells us they did?  

I was back at school by 7 and then left for a service at Christ's Church at 9:00.  This time I didn't go by myself but tagged along with a friend, which I think was a good choice.  It seems that I usally end up going to church by myself and sitting by myself (though sometimes there are other people there that I know and talk to after the serice.)  I have been to Christ's Church a couple times before, though not this semester (other than Good Friday).  I always enjoyed it fairly well, but I think this time I enjoyed it more, and I think that I can partially attribute that to the company I was with.  I sat between Cameron and Matt, and Shan and Julia were in front of us.  I think perhaps that knowing I had friends around me, friends that I could hear and see as they sing and that could hear and see me, helped me to enter into the spirit of the songs a little more.  It was a good reminder that the Church is a body, and we need each other.  The sermon there was also good, stressing the importance of the ressurection.  

Then on the way home we saw another little parade.  And the Easter Bunny. :)  Oh Jerusalem!

To celebrate Easter on campus we had a BBQ that afternoon, which was a lovely break from paper writing and weird cultural experiences.   

A friend even started to teach me to throw a football.  :)

So basically, it's been a crazy week.  And the Orthodox Easter week is just starting, so there may be more to come.  And finals are looming, so please be patient as I probably post less. :)  

Oh, and while I'm thinking of it...I know there are people who read this...so if you ever feel like leaving a comment and saying hi, I'd love to hear from you. :)

Nahal Ammud

Today I went hiking in the Upper Galilee.  It was amazing.  It's a place with very little Biblical significance, so I hadn't been there.  It does have significance to Jewish mysticism, but our reason for going there was simply for pleasure.  We started up near the top of Nahal Ammud and hiked some distance down it.  There was some scrambling in a couple areas, but in general it was pretty easy, as far as hiking goes.  It was beautiful, though, and also mostly deserted except for us, which was nice.  I don't think I've ever seen that many wildflowers in my life - they carpeted the hill sides: lovely sights for the eyes and sweet smells for the nose. :)

Here are some examples of the scenery we saw.  

Yes, they had cows.  They were cute and I talked to them.

Prickly but beautiful thistles.  

Also very cute tadpoles.  

These were some of my favorite flowers because of their variety of color.  The same plant could have flowers with colors ranging from purple to pink.  

Barbed wire! :)

It was a wonderful day, really.  It was nice to get out of town and have a bit of a break from school.  

Today for Jews was a special blessing of the sun.  I think the words they use for that blessing are fitting to end with:

"ברוך אתה ה' אלהינו מלך העולם עושה מעשה בראשית"

"Blessed are You, LORD, our God, King of the Universe who makes the works of Creation."