Simpsons and the Holy Land

It's true.  As a child I was never allowed to watch The Simpsons.  Probably with good reason.  I mean, it might have been partly due to the fact that during most of my formative years we didn't own a TV, thus making TV watching a rather difficult pass time.  That aside, though, there are probably a number of good reasons why I wasn't allowed to watch it.  (Therefore, viewer discretion is encouraged in the following blog.)

Because I never watched it growing up, it never occurred to me to watch it once I was grown and had television access.  This, however, was not the situation for several roommates I have had over the years.  Many of them have apparently had an inordinate fondness for the show, and in hanging out with them, I was first exposed to, and then even began to enjoy, The Simpsons.  Shocking, I know, but true.

This is not to say that The Simpsons have become an every day part of my life.  However, the other day one of my former roommates recommended that I watch the most recent Simpsons episode wherein they take a trip to the Holy Land.  I watched it here (if you want to experience it yourself).

I have to admit, it was quite impressive.  (And by impressive I mostly mean humorous.)  Irreverent, of course, but there is so much religious nonsense over here that sometimes you just have to laugh at it, or else you'll cry.  It was, for the most part, remarkably accurate in its portrayal of both places and people here in the land, though obviously exaggerated and generalized.  Let's just say that it's light-hearted take on life here was a welcome contrast to the on-going tensions felt in the city.

Signs of Pesach

Today I got free food.  Why?  Because we are the known goyim in our apartment building.  Pesach (Passover for you non-Hebrew speakers) is upon us and all good Jews are removing all traces of leaven from their homes (and hey, instead of throwing it out, might as well give it to the poor-college-student-heathens in the building).

For us non-Jews this sounds like it should be a relatively easy process: dump the yeast (and maybe the baking soda and baking powder?), throw out any breads you might have hanging around, and you're good to go.  Apparently it's not quite that simple, as evidenced both by items given to us by our neighbors and items currently unavailable in Jewish grocery stories:
Cookies
Cake
Crackers (other than matza)
Tortillas
Pasta
Cereal (unless you buy kosher-for-passover cereal)
Flour

According to Wikipedia (and other sources I have read and heard from), Chametz/Leaven is defined as "a product that is (a) made from one of five types of grains, and (b) has been combined with water and left to stand for longer than eighteen minutes without being baked."  This is a Rabbinical definition, not given anywhere in the Bible.  Still, if that is the definition we operate under some of the discarded foods above make a little more sense.

With things like crackers, tortillas, and cereal, I suppose it would be easy enough if making them at home to insure that they were baked before 18 minutes passed, but, if they are purchased, one has no way of knowing how long they sat.

Pasta, though seeming unlikely to contain trace elements of yeast, is generally dried rather than baked...and that, I suppose, eliminates it.

The homemade cookies and cake are perhaps discounted because they include baking soda?  In reality, they are probably eliminated because, apparently, any sort of baked good containing those 5 grains and water, other than matza, is automatically eliminated.  Even those which would otherwise make the cut.  Who knows?  I, for one, am still confused by the distinctions.

I must admit, though, that I still have a hard time understanding why grocery stores don't carry flour.  After all, I'm pretty sure that flour is used to make matza.  Perhaps they are afraid that there will be a flood or a pipe will burst or something, and all the flour will get wet, and then, within the next 18 minutes, they will have chametz on their hands.

I guess I just won't be able to make my own matza this season.  Don't worry, though, I won't be matza-less.  Last week a nice Jewish man came and gave free matza to all the inhabitants of my apartment building.  I'm set.


//Please note that no offence is meant to Jews or their holiday practices.  As an outsider I find some of them
//quite humorous (especially when the Biblical basis and logic behind them are considered).  Still, I recognize
//that some of my holiday traditions probably appear just as ridiculous from the outside.  I mean, gifts in
//stocks on Christmas morning?  Where in the world did that tradition originate and how does it relate in
//any way to a baby in a manger?

Perfumes and Camels

Upon emerging from my tent this morning, the first thing my eyes rested on was the blimp, floating high in the air, which was to watch us for the rest of our journeys. (It did not, in fact, follow us around, though we began to be suspicious when we kept seeing it. See if you can find the blimp in all the pictures below!)

The sunrise today caught me hiking up a small hill near our campsite. It was a day to be dedicated to paths across the desert, so I suppose it is appropriate that it began on a path in the desert.

The first order of the morning, after eating and packing everything up and all that, was to drive down the Scorpion's Ascent (Ma'aleh Akrabim). (Notice the orange dots which attempt to highlight the road.)

I must admit, I had been quite looking forward to this part. We talk a lot about routes in my major. They're kinda a big deal. This particular ascent plays an important role in the history of several periods.

1. It is mentioned in Numbers 34:4

"And your border shall turn south of the ascent of Akrabbim, and cross to Zin, and its limit shall be south of Kadesh-barnea. Then it shall go on to Hazar-addar, and pass along to Azmon."

as well as Joshua 15:3 and Judges 1:36.

2. This was a vital part of the Spice Trade during Roman times. We stopped at Rogem Tzafir, which guards the bottom of the ascent, and could see Metsad Zafir which guards the upper part. (This picture is inside the lower fort, looking up at the upper one.)

3. In the 1950's it was part of the only route to Eilat. A terrorist attack took place on this stretch of road on March 17, 1954. After this, other routes to Eilat were constructed, and today, this road is little more than a tourist attraction.

After reaching the bottom of the harrowing ascent/decent, we continued on to one of the main oasis on this spice route, Tamar. This is another site which I've wanted to visit for some time. It has, according to the sign at the site, six layers of strata, stretching from Israelite to Arab periods.

They also had a neighboring Crocodile Farm. Just what everyone wants in their neighborhood.

From Tamar we headed south and picked up the first part of the Nabatean Spice Route. (Well, the first part of the Nabatean Spice Route that happens to be in Israel.) The signs warned of the need for four wheel drive, but we made it quite well to the first site along the way: Mo'a. After that we decided that wisdom was the better part of valor and made our way back to the main road. Someday, though, I'd like to come back with a jeep or similarly prepared vehicle and traverse the whole trail to Makhtesh Ramon.

Which is where we headed next. We stopped to visit the "Ammonite Wall" (supposedly a geologic feature with fossilized snails. We failed to find the wall, but hiked up and into what turned out to be the edge of Makhtesh Ramon, getting a great view of the crater. After making our way back to the car we drove across the crater to Mitzpeh Ramon, where we had lunch. We decided to camp and Mampses that night and began to make our way there, with pit stops at Wadi Zin and Ben-Gurion's grave, and a failed attempt to find Aroer.

We seemed to run into millions of blue-clad Israeli school children or green-clad Israeli soldiers where ever we went on this trip, and Mampses was no exception. The yelling children apparently had a camp-out planned and ruled the camp ground. Other than them, though, the camp ground was rather empty. We got the fire pit and a lovely large tent to ourselves. Our state of exhaustion, coupled with the cushy mattresses provided, allowed us to sink into deep slumber, in spite of the loud children.

Our final day was uneventful, mostly involving driving from Mampses to Beer Sheva, through the Shephelah, and to the Ibex campus near Abu Ghosh. For a geography geek, though, it's always fun to see drive on these routes, to see the land. And it was fun to see my sister in her "home" environment.

We ended back in Jerusalem. For most of the people reading this, routes and places visited mean very little. I, however, had great fun plotting them and seeing on the non-concentric circles we made as we traversed the south.

Borot Lotz and Beyond

The day dawned cold and early and we shivered out of our sleeping bags, ate a simple breakfast, and broke camp before beginning to explore the region.

*Warning: brace yourself for some Historical Geography geekiness.*

Borot Lotz:

"Built by the Israelites almost 3000 years ago, the water holes of Lotz continue to collect rainwater flowing off the mountains. During the season, flora of all kinds cluster around them en masse. Seventeen Israelite cisterns have been uncovered to date, along with fascinating remains from a 3000-year-old-house... It all began when King Solomon opened up trade with the Queen of Sheba. Solomon constructed fortresses along the main roads to protect merchant caravans."

Israel's Southern Landscapes by Aviva Ben-Am and Yisrael Shalem, p.161

"Moreover, Uzziah built towers in Jerusalem at the Corner Gate and at the Valley Gate and at the Angle, and fortified them. And he built towers in the wilderness and cut out many cisterns, for he had large herds, both in the Shephelah and in the plain, and he had farmers and vinedressers in the hills and in the fertile lands, for he loved the soil."

2 Chronicles 26:9-10

The couple hours spent exploring in this location where possibly my favorite part of the trip. We saw remains of 4-room houses, terracing, cisterns, and even a threshing floor, in the antiquities department.

We saw flowers of all sorts, sizes, and shapes in the flora department. We saw birds, bugs, and some pretty stinking cool fossils in the fauna department. Basically, it was lots of my favorite things, all wrapped up in one beautiful location.

Unfortunately, we had places to go and people to meet and were unable to linger long. Instead of heading back the way we came, we took a right on to the "main" road and headed for the Egyptian border. This is when the sketchy part of the journey began.

We had not gone far before we came to an army base. In fact, over the course of this trip, I came to the conclusion that the whole southern part of Israel is just one big army base. You can't drive 20km without passing a base, or a sign saying "Warning, firing range to your right. Stay on the road" or some such indication of the military presence. The road to Borot Lotz has and army base at either end of it, and is thus, I believe, only open on Shabbat. Fortunately for us, it was Shabbat.

At any rate, as we approached the base near the Egyptian border, we saw that there was a gate that was closed. Then we saw a soldier approaching. We asked if we could go through and told him we were going to Nessanna. He opened the gate and let us through, so we continued on our way, admiring the fantastic views of Egypt.

The road was narrow and windy, climbing into heights and falling back to the plain. It also had a tendency towards having barbed wire instead of patches where the sides of the road had been washed out. We saw one other civilian vehicle in the roughly 1.5 hours spent on the road, so it seems that it is not often frequented. We stopped at a couple lookout points, including Har Horsha, from which the oasis of Kadesh Barnea was visible.

We passed another army base and were nearly within sight of our goal when we came to another gate. It was secured by an odd juxtaposition of a fence post, a barrel, and some wire. Not locked. This time, there was no one around to open it, so we just let ourselves through, in the process knocking down a sign (facing the other side of the gate) which I'm pretty sure said something like "No Entrance." We were exiting, though, so it was of no concern to us.

We had not gone much farther when we spotted an IDF vehicle coming down the road towards us. They saw us too and wave at us to stop. They asked where we had come from and if we had crossed the barrier. We weren't sure of what barrier they meant, so we replied that yes, a soldier had let us through. They seemed satisfied with this answer and we all continued on our ways. Shortly after this again we saw a few soldiers off to the side of the road with their guns, making us fervently hope that it was indeed still a Shabbat and they weren't practicing in their firing ranges.

It was with a considerable amount of relief that we finally reached the main road by Nessanna/Nitzana.

Unfortunately, with our time constraints we could do more than wave at that Nabatean ruin as we passed. A little further on we came to Shivta (by another army base/firing range) where we were able to stop for a short visit. It has three churches, all of which are remarkably well preserved.

After Shivta we raced east and northward, in an attempt to pick up my sister and her friend near Jericho by 3pm. We stopped at a couple lookout points and saw the Zohar Fortress from afar. It has now been added to my list of places to visit. The more I see, the more I see there is to see.

After picking up people we headed south again, searching for a camp site. We found one near the little crater. We watched the sun set over the desert hills before setting up the tent and finding wood for a fire. The evening joys included s'mores and Bedouin tea. Can't beat camping! We fell asleep to the sound of Perelandra being read, accompanied by our rowdy Israeli neighbors singing and talking late into the night.

Map of the routes of the day:

Let the Adventures Begin!

Today I took a drive.

That's a simple enough statement. Or would be, if I were still in Montana. Here in Israel, where I don't have a car and where road accidents are a leading cause of death, such a simple statement reeks of mystery and adventure.

In anticipation of just such an adventure I rented a car. As it was my first car rental, that itself was a bit of an adventure. It was immediately followed by another adventure: my first time driving in Jerusalem. Things proceed without incident, and shortly after 1pm my friends and I were headed south.

We skirted Hebron to the east and then swung over towards Arad, encountering only slight opposition on the way. (In other words, not only were we stopped at the Israeli check point, they also made us take everything out of the car and put it through their x-ray machine while they examined our car. At least they didn't strip search us. I've never been searched like that at a check point. It was weird.) On our way we passed Biblical sites of importance such as Ziph, Karmel, and Ma'on. (See Joshua 15:55).

For the record, Arad in the spring time is a very different place from Arad in the fall. In the fall is appears to be a very hot, very dry, very desolate place. In spring, the hills are covered with a lush carpet of green grass and yellow and purple flowers.

From there we continued on, past Beer Sheva, past Avdat, taking a right just before Mitzpeh Ramon and climbing into the desert highlands. We were nearing the Egyptian border when we took another right, onto an ill-kept dirt road, filled with pointy stones, jutting from its surface. I have to admit, I feel pretty comfortable on dirt roads, but some of these Israeli dirt roads made me a bit nervous. Driving slowly and carefully we made out way to the parking lot and campsite of Borot Lotz.

We arrived just at the sun was beginning his final decent towards the horizon. As we stepped out of the car to explore before setting up camp, the chilly wind blew the fresh, sweet air over our faces. Indeed, it was almost a little too sweet, vaguely reminiscent of some barely remembered childhood medication. The threat of darkness and cold, however, kept us from more exploration and enjoyment of the scent. We quickly found a place to set up out tent and climbed in to get out of the chilling wind.

The rest of the evening was spent trying to stay warm, eating dinner, shivering, reading Perelandra to each other, and trying to catch a few hours of sleep.

Abu Ghosh

Today there are roughly 1.3 million Arab Israelis in Israel. They represent approximately 20% of the population. About 82% of them are Muslim and the remaining 18% is divided almost equally between Christians and Druze. They are living in a state which makes attempts to be both Jewish and Democratic, leading to some interesting conundrums.

On Saturday I went on a Field Study to Abu Ghosh, the only Arab village allowed to remain along the Jerusalem Corridor during the war of 1948. There we met with their Head of Education, Issa Jaber who told us some of the history of the town and offered some insight about how it was to live as a Muslim in a Jewish state.

We met him at our first stop of the day: the Church of Notre Dame de l’Arche d’Alliance. The church was built over the remains of a Byzantine church - ceramic tile work is still visible in many places. The current church was built in 1917 and commemorates the house of Abinadab in Kiriath-jearim where the Ark of the Covenant stayed for 20 years, until David brought it to Jerusalem. (See 1 Samuel 7 and 2 Samuel 6). The church even has a picture of David playing "the organ" before the ark.

The church is visible for miles around, along with the statue that sits atop it: Mary, holding Jesus, standing on the Ark, facing towards Jerusalem.

The Christian population in Abu Ghosh is basically non-existent. The church is kept up by a few nuns who live there and run a guest house, but no services are held in the church. It does see use, however, twice a year when the town has its semiannual Classical Music Festival.

Our second stop was also a church and monastery. This church, the Church of the Resurrection, dates back to the crusader period, for the most part. It was built on top of a fort of some sort constructed by the 10th Roman Legion. It commemorates the New Testament site of Emmaus. The tradition connecting this place to Emmaus is quite late, as far as traditions go, and therefore seems rather unlikely to have settled upon the correct location, theologically appealing though it may be. At any rate, the church has some lovely, newly restored, crusader-era frescoes and wonderful acoustics.

After this second church Issa took us to his house where his wife had spent all morning preparing an amazing lunch for us. Throughout our time with him he told us about various issues affecting him and his community. Education is a huge issue for him, as the head of education in Abu Ghosh. Biblical studies are required in the curriculum prescribed by the state, as well as Jewish history and literature. Islamic studies are not required, nor is space alloted for Islamic History and Literature, which is clearly something of an issue for the Islamic community. It would be like America being required to teach Chinese history and literature - instead of American history and literature.

We also learned about various other pars of life - marriage traditions and the importance of coffee. (Note: never serve coffee until nearly the end of the visit, make sure to use sugar, and if you are offered coffee, drink it!)

Over all, it was a refreshing visit. Abu Ghosh has a very unique history in Israel. It's a nice contrast to Jerusalem where religious tensions always run high, especially in this recent news. Issa reflects the general desire there for peace among the three major religions of the country as a chairman of ICCI.

After we left Issa and Abu Ghosh we stopped at Castel (pronounced kast-el...like it looks, but coming from the same word as castle). Castel was a site of great importance in April of 1948 as the Jews fought to gain access to Jerusalem. It also has great grass.

On top we took some time to discuss the events of April 1948, the taking and re-taking of Castel which allowed the road to Jerusalem to be held for 11 days. We then looked around at the view. For a geography geek like me it was a great view.

It was a good day. Quite informative. Lots to think about. And, of course, as on any good field study, there were flowers:

Psalm 18 and Wilderness

Friday I had the opportunity to go down to the are of the Dead Sea with a few friends. After a bit of a fiasco involving faulty alarm clock and a flat tire, we headed out of Jerusalem at about 3:30am. We started hiking the snake path at Masada at 5am sharp, arriving at the top in plenty of time to watch the sun rise through the haze. From there we stopped briefly at the Dead Sea to slather ourselves liberally in the black mud found along its banks. We then raced along steep and winding paths to the source of the David Wadi, wondering at the fertility of the region in the midst of such a desolate wilderness.

Some of the scenes and experiences from the day reminded me of Psalm 18, especially since such scenes and experiences were probably fresh in David's mind when he wrote the psalm.

Verses 1-2

To the choirmaster. A Psalm of David, the servant of the LORD, who addressed the words of this song to the LORD on the day when the LORD rescued him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul.

He said: I love you, O LORD, my strength.
The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer,

my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge,

my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

This is the stronghold of Masada. Today it is mostly known as a fortress built by Herod the Great and one of the last holdouts of Zealots in the rebellion against the Romans. However, as most things in this land, its history goes back much farther. While one cannot say for sure, considering its position and tactical advantages, it is as likely as any place to have been the stronghold that David was at in 1 Samuel 22:4 "And he left them with the king of Moab, and they stayed with him all the time that David was in the stronghold." At very least David is certain to have been familiar with the sight of this hill and would have recognized its defensibility. In spite of the advantages of such a spot, though, David relied on God, realizing that true safety is only found in Him.

Verse 28

For it is you who light my lamp;

the LORD my God lightens my darkness.

Here's the view as we began hiking. With the moon and stars and the sun beginning to think of making an appearance there was enough light to be able to make out the trail without the need of flashlights. If it were in the middle of the night with clouds and no moon, it would be very dark indeed.

Verses 29-36

For by you I can run against a troop,

and by my God I can leap over a wall.
This God--his way is perfect;

the word of the LORD proves true;

he is a shield for all those who take refuge in him.
For who is God, but the LORD?

And who is a rock, except our God?--
the God who equipped me with strength

and made my way blameless.
He made my feet like the feet of a deer

and set me secure on the heights.

He trains my hands for war,

so that my arms can bend a bow of bronze.
You have given me the shield of your salvation,

and your right hand supported me,

and your gentleness made me great.
You gave a wide place for my steps under me,

and my feet did not slip.

In the first picture in this section one can discern a tiny path, winding its way up the mountain. While I did not personally walk on this path, on this trip I did climb on one of the more hazardous trails that I've gone on in Israel. Most of the "dangerous" paths I've been on have had railings and/or hand holds. This one did too, but not as many. In addition to being steep and winding, the rocks had been smoothed by thousands of people traversing it, making the footing treacherous. It wasn't bad, really, but it does give an idea of the danger of wandering around the wilderness wadis that David called his home when he was hiding from Saul. There are always rocks just waiting to betray your footing, and there is no stop before the bottom of the wadi. One does indeed need deer's feet. Though we didn't see any on this trip, it is usually a common sight to see ibex leaping about the hills, heedless of the danger. In contrast, the second picture has a very broad and pleasant path.

Verses 37-42

I pursued my enemies and overtook them,

and did not turn back till they were consumed.

I thrust them through,

so that they were not able to rise;

they fell under my feet.
For you equipped me with strength for the battle;

you made those who rise against me sink under me.
You made my enemies turn their backs to me,

and those who hated me I destroyed.
They cried for help,

but there was none to save;

they cried to the LORD,

but he did not answer them.
I beat them fine as dust before the wind;

I cast them out like the mire of the streets.

The wind was blowing from the east, carrying a very fine dust on it, so fine that it would not have been discerned, but for its irksome effect of obscuring vision. To make such a dust David's victory must have been complete indeed.

It's always good for me to get out into the land, to see what the Bible writers saw and walk where they walked. Things have changed much between their time and mine, but there is still enough left to begin to get a glimpse of what life was like and to start to understand their thoughts and images.

New Experience

Apparently I have not yet plumbed the depths of experiences one can have in Israel.

I have had several people approach me and ask for help. (Mostly in the form of, "Slichah, *hebrew hebrew hebrew*," which they then have to translate for me into "Do you know where ____ is?") Usually I do know where ____ is, so that combined with the fact that apparently I look at home enough here to look like I would know, makes me feel like maybe I sort of look like I belong here. How's that for a convoluted sentence? Suffice it to say, I take comfort in the idea that I don't look as out of place as I often feel.

However, yesterday, I had quite a different experience. I was, as usual, minding my own business, looking at a map and being a little geeky, when a young man came up to me and politely asked if he could help me. It turns out he was a ranger in the park I was in, so it was sort of his job, but in a country where good customer service is not exactly highly valued, such an offer is a rather rare and pleasant surprise.

Prayer of St. Augustine

O God, by whose laws the poles revolve,

The stars follow their courses,

The sun rules the day

And the moon presides over the night;

And all the world maintains,

As far as this world of sense allows,

The wondrous stability of things

By means of the orders and recurrences of seasons:

Through the days by the changing of light and darkness,

Through the months by the moon's progressions and declines,

Through the years by the successions of Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter,

Through the cycles by the completion of the sun's course,

Through the great eras of time by the return of the stars to their starting points.

God of life,

There are days when the burdens we carry chafe our shoulders

And wear us down;

When the road seems dreary and endless,

The skies grey and threatening,

When our lives have no music in them,

And our hearts are lonely,

And our souls have lost their courage.

Flood the path with light, we beseech you;

Turn our eyes to where the skies are full of promise.

Our hearts are restless, O Lord, until they rest in you.

Apocryphal Tolkien

I happened to watch The Return of the King last night and was struck by the similarities between what is shown in this scene, especially from about 5:30 to about 8:30....

...and a battle described 1 Maccabees:

1 Maccabees 6:33-34, 37, 42-46
Then the king rising very early marched fiercely with his host toward Bathzacharias, where his armies made them ready to battle, and sounded the trumpets. And to the end they might provoke the elephants to fight, they shewed them the blood of grapes and mulberries.

And upon the beasts were there strong towers of wood, which covered every one of them, and were girt fast unto them with devices: there were also upon every one two and thirty strong men, that fought upon them, beside the Indian that ruled him.

Then Judas and his host drew near, and entered into battle, and there were slain of the king's army six hundred men. Eleazar also, surnamed Savaran, perceiving that one of the beasts, armed with royal harness, was higher than all the rest, and supposing that the king was upon him, put himself in jeopardy, to the end he might deliver his people, and get him a perpetual name: wherefore he ran upon him courageously through the midst of the battle, slaying on the right hand and on the left, so that they were divided from him on both sides. Which done, he crept under the elephant, and thrust him under, and slew him: whereupon the elephant fell down upon him, and there he died.

I would say that Tolkien knew his apocrypha.

And just for fun, here's what Eleazar SHOULD have done:

Historical Rights

I was perusing head lines in the Jerusalem Post today when I came across this quote (from this article):

"You don’t have to be a biblical scholar to recognize the incontestable Jewish nature of Rachel’s Tomb and the Cave of the Patriarchs."

Yes, actually, such recognition might flow much more easily if one is, in fact, not a biblical scholar.

Let me back up a little. Recently, Rachel's Tomb (in Bethlehem) and the Cave of the Patriarchs (in Hebron) were placed on Israel's list of Heritage sites. There are generally two responses to this action.

The first reaction is the one taken by the Palestinians, and much of the rest of the world. This is a political move to attempt to claim more Palestinian land for Israel and should not be tolerated.

The other reaction is the one taken by the author of this article. Historically speaking, the Jewish people are connected with the Old Testament and the stories of the patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The Bible records the burial of Rachel near Bethlehem and the burial of Sarah and various other members of that family near Hebron. As these are the tombs of their ancestors, they should clearly have the right to revere them.

A lot of the question comes down to Historical Rights. Everyone in this land who tries to claim it bases their claim in history. In recent history, Palestinian refugees claim houses in Israel (currently occupied by Jewish Israelis) as their ancestral homes, where the lived until 1948. Looking at more ancient history, Jews claim Jerusalem as their capital, citing it's defeat by King David 3000 years ago. In return, Palestinians claim Jerusalem, claiming to be descendants of the Jebusites who controlled it before David. Does history give rights in the present day? And if so, what layer of history do you choose?

The author mentioned above continues his argument, trying to emphasize that the Jewish layer of history predates that of all other claimants, and therefore is the one that counts:

"Sites such as Rachel’s Tomb and the Cave of the Patriarchs are part of the national and religious patrimony of the Jewish people, and we do not need anyone’s permission to renovate and maintain them. Our reverence for these sites and attachment to them predates Muhammad and precedes Jesus, and no one has the right to lecture us about where and how we choose to serve God."

There is, however, a bit of a problem with his argument.

Let's start by looking at the Cave/Tomb of the Patriarchs. To quote Ehud Netzer from The Architecture of Herod, the Great Builder, "To the present day there is a general consensus among scholars that this structure in Hebron, which is well preserved and perhaps even intact, was built by Herod [the Great]." Admittedly, Herod does still precede Jesus and Mohammed, but not by much. Of course, the fact that this structure was probably built by Herod does not mean that it is not built on top of the Tomb of Machpelah. Tradition may have preserved the actual site, and Herod may have built on top of it, trying to please the Jews. Or, maybe, Herod just built on a random cave with no connection to the Patriarchs. It's hard to say how much validity the Jewish claim to this site has, at least in the ancient past. We'll let it pass for now and move on to Rachel's Tomb.

Rachel's Tomb, clearly of relatively modern Islamic construction, is a sheik's tomb. Again, there is a possibility that it was built on top of the site of Rachel's tomb, but in this case the archaeological connections are even more uncertain.

So do the Jews have the right to claim these sites as heritage sites? Maybe, maybe not. Within more recent history, these sites have probably been revered by the few Jews living in the land for over 1000 years. I know less about modern history, but at the very least, they have apparently been revered for the last 100 years. Does this give them a right?

I'll leave that for you to ponder. I have no easy answers.

I would really like it, though, if people claiming historical rights would check their historical facts.

Pools in the Wilderness

Isaiah 41:18 (NKJV)
I will open rivers in desolate heights,
And fountains in the midst of the valleys;
I will make the wilderness a pool of water,
And the dry land springs of water.

Words like "water" and "wilderness" (or in the Hebrew, "mayim" and "midbar") occur often throughout the Bible. When used in conjunction they would have been very evocative to the ancient mind.

What pictures come to your mind when you think of wilderness? Maybe something like this?

Mountains, as far as the eye can see, with no human habitation in sight? Where I grew up, that was the wilderness.

As for water in the wilderness, maybe one would think of something like this:

a small mountain lake, or this:

a rushing waterfall.

While not everyone is from the Rocky Mountain region, a good many people have been there or have at least seen pictures. While these pictures might not be the ideal image of "water in the wilderness" for everyone, I imagine that most of the English speaking world would agree that those words fit the pictures above.

It's a problem.

These don't come close to the image an ancient Israelite would have at the words "mayim ba'midbar." If we are to properly understand the intent of the Biblical authors (who wrote in a language very much tied to the land) we must understand the land where they lived and the imagery they wished to evoke by the words they used.

The Hebrew word translated as "wilderness" can also be translated as "pasture land." That evokes a bit of a different image in the mind of most Americans. Maybe something like this:

a field full of lush, green grass. Or maybe even something slightly less lush, realizing that things do dry out in the summer:

Are these the images David would have had as he wrote Psalm 23? Would he have pastured his flock in fields like these?

In the summer, the "midbar" that David would have known looks something like this:

and in the winter you might be lucky enough to see it looking like this:

Prime pasture for the flocks of sheep and goats that frequent this area.

What about the "still water?" The "pools of water in the wilderness?" Maybe this:

a clear, quietly flowing river? Maybe a small lake or pond?

Think again. When you think of green pastures and still waters, when you think of pools in the wilderness, think of this:

In America, we live in a land of plenty - plenty of water, plenty of grass, plenty of everything. Israel is, in many ways, a harsher land. Life can be hard. A little pool of water and a little bit of grass is a great gift from God. It is enough to say, "I shall not want."