As we told you in the previous article the Sabbath had begun, the evening was Friday and now we embark on the adventures of Saturday in the areas in which Jesus spent his youth.
To some degree it was embarrassing to think of Ezz-Ek-Ee-El working on the Sabbath to take around the sites a group of Gentiles and American Gentiles at that. But he was very good natured about the whole thing and confessed he was somewhat flexible with his approach to what he considered the orthodox viewpoint. After a restricted breakfast because of the Sabbath, mainly the absence of toast and the presence of Matza crackers, we boarded our bus for a short journey to Cana of Galilee. It all seemed so unreal to be walking the streets of the village where almost 2000 years ago our Lord performed his first miracle. Of course, there are numerous sites where supposedly this and that happened but about the only sure determination was that we were actually in Cana, and that other than our bus and a few automobiles it had not changed much in the last 19 centuries. As we walked thru the narrow streets we got considerable attention from the Arab population which dominates this area, and our thoughts went back to Jesus who similarly experienced the looks from the curious, the gaze of the skeptical, the whispered comment from the local inhabitants. But on his mind as he walked these same paths we presume his thoughts were of his inherited relationship to his mother and his Father plus the mission ahead, yet to be accomplished. A mission to save not only many of the skeptical observers of his day but later we trust it will include 36 Gentile pilgrims on a Salem Travel Tour.
Leaving the village we stopped a short distance outside, looked back from a vantage point to take pictures of a few strange cubicle type dwellings spaced tightly together on a sloping hillside forming an unforgettable scene—Cana, of Galilee, where Jesus turned the water into wine.
Onwards to Nazareth a short 15 minute drive only about 6 miles climbing as we went and then suddenly, there it was, the old city and the new, separated by a deep and wide valley. We were on the outskirts of the new part of the city, wide streets, high rise buildings, a monstrous conglomeration of many cubicles all piled up in a heap called “Habitat.” A similar ingenious cluster of dwellings by this name won several architectural awards at EXpo ’67 in Montreal, and here it was, not an exhibit, but the real thing, fully occupied by recent arrivals of Jewish immigrants. In the new part of what can be called a city (50,000 population) is a truck assembling plant, a chocolate factory and a considerable number of small industries. It seemed strange to think of the earlier industrious endeavors of our Lord as a carpenter and today’s modern invasion of the area. Yet the old part of the city on the opposite side of the valley has changed little, but was much like a giant over expanded Cana, frozen in its appearance and life style for hundreds of years. The old Nazareth is predominantly Arab and because this was the Sabbath it was very busy. The Arab Holy day observed is Friday, so on Saturdays they get all the business from the closed down Jewish section which comprises most of the new area. The contrast was noticeable, from an almost deserted modern city to a jam packed bustling sea of humanity scurrying around the narrow streets of a large hillside covered with very old buildings. A few of the streets were wide enough for automobiles but most transportation was on foot with occasional relief by donkey or camel. Ezz-Ek-Ee-El suggested we walk down thru the Arab market as long as we stayed close together, kept an eye on those in front and a suspicion of all who were behind — this to avoid purse snatching and pocket picking. Both of these activities are skilled crafts in the circles of the unscrupulous, but quite profitable during tourist time in the busy part of old Nazareth. The usual sacred places were covered with buildings of either Christians, Moslem or Jewish origin and did not have much appeal to us and the Church of the Annunciation was inaccessible due to a special ceremonial service. One of the overly friendly owners of a donkey persistently pursued an elderly member with results which defied description as he placed her on the subservient beast and for a small fee became the attraction for the whole group because almost everyone finally paid for a short ride on this beast of burden in the streets of Nazareth. Fortunately the weather was beautiful and so there is documented photographic evidence of all of this in the possession of well over half of the 36 pilgrims who on that Sabbath enjoyed the sites of historic Nazareth.
Leaving the hilly environs of Nazareth we passed a steep promontory which was described to us as the “Hill of Precipitation.” Not being too familiar with coined phrases of the traditional Christian orthodoxy we thought the description to be in error until seeing it in print on all the illustrations of this particular hill which has a sharp precipice with large boulders below. Here tradition says that the locals from Nazareth tried to push Jesus over the side but he passed thru the midst of them and so avoided any harm from their evil intent. (Luke Ch. 4, v. 29) We were headed in the direction of Mt. Tabor but stopped at a Kibbutz in Dovrat where we bought honey in plastic tubes to be squeezed like toothpaste, but good honey nevertheless, made locally in the shadow of Mt. Tabor and in the nearby valley of Esdraelon or Jezreel (Armageddon). A few hundred yards back on the highway was a side street which climbed slowly to a cluster of buildings at the foot of another of the many surrounding hills —Nain. The town where was witnessed the first demonstration of the power of Jesus to raise to life people already dead, the widow of Nain’s son (Luke Ch. 7, v. 11). The hills, the dirt, the weeds, the trees, the sky, the paths and perhaps the houses, all about the same as at the time Jesus saw them when he walked about 7 miles from the vicinity of Nazareth to Nain, there to re-unite a widow and her only son bringing them happiness not just for a few more years of this life but hope of a final resurrection to everlasting life. As we looked stedfastly at the village of Nain our hopes also were stirred by the realization we too may some day talk with the widow and her son and perhaps her husband. There is no place in this land of promise that does not arouse the emotions by either the history of its past or the promises of its future.
Mt. Tabor, considered by most to be the mount of transfiguration not only provided a magnificent view from its 1800 foot summit but a hair raising experience driving to the top in German Mercedes taxicabs with Arab drivers. One of our less trusting pilgrims, at least as far as Arab skills in driving were concerned, buried her head in her hands refusing to look at anything until safely out of the taxi and into the Basilica at the top of the mountain. Lunch was served in the large dining hall of the Sanctuary of the Transfiguration and it was delightful. Much picture taking was done from this vantage point especially of Armageddon where good old “Zeek” reminded us the greatest conflict of all time would take place. Down we went by the same route we came up. Israel’s answer to Disneyland’s toboggan ride, only in a taxi with one calm Arab driver and five scared pilgrims.
From the foot of Mt. Tabor we hurried past Nain in the direction of Megiddo. Here was a tell with 22 layers of various eras going back as far as Canaanite times, all well illustrated by a cutaway model. Excavations revealed much of the left over effects of Solomon’s stables when it was a garrison under his administration. We went through the tunnel which exited on the side of the hill at a point well hidden from any surrounding enemies, thus assuring contact with the outside in time of siege. As the late afternoon started to become early evening we left the fateful area of the Valley of Megiddo, Esdraelon, Jezreel, Armageddon and climbed the hills towards Kinneret. Over the crest there below us we got a glimpse of the Sea of Galilee and the small town of Kinneret. At dusk we arrived back at our hotel overlooking the Sea of Kinneret or Sea of Tiberias, or Sea of Galilee or Sea of Chinnereth or Lake of Gennesaret, but by whatever name, a small body of water with a great historical past. The Sabbath was now over and in the environs of Tiberias the activity certainly indicated that with the near approach of the Christian Sunday there would not likely be the tranquility of the Saturday’s Sabbath and so another inspiring day in the Promised Land came to a restful conclusion with anticipation of tomorrow’s Sunday Service on the Mount of Beatitudes
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One