It's true.
Walking and driving through the land of the Bible makes all the little geographical details come alive - details that I never paid much attention to before.
Call me crazy, but it never hit me until I was standing at the ruins of Caeserea, in a palace part of which is literally underneath the Mediterranean, that Israel is a coastal country. Should I have realized this? Duh, yes. I've looked at maps. I've seen the strip of coast that Israel occupies. But somehow it didn't sink in what that meant. That's the point, I guess - I've read the Bible my whole life, looked at maps of Israel countless times, and it took standing in the wind and looking out at the waves to grasp Israel's location - the center of the fertile crescent. No backwater, but a key stretch on the route joining the Assyrian, Babylonian, and Egyptian empires, with access to all the riches of a shipping trade that stretched across the Mediterranean.
The land in northern Israel at the beginning of March is lush and fertile, with large herds of cattle grazing on the hills. That was unexpected to me, somehow. I expected sheep and goats and camels. Not cows.
And yet -
Every beast of the forest is Mine,
the cattle on a thousand hills.
I know all the birds of the hills,
and all that moves in the field is mine.
Psalm 50:10-11
Speaking of birds, Israel isn't just in an essential location when it comes to ancient civilizations. It's also a land bridge between Africa, Europe, and Asia for migrating birds. They don't like to fly over water, so rather than flying over the Mediterranean, they fly over Israel. We were there during migration season, and we saw countless flocks of storks flying North. I have never before seen a flock of storks. There is a pair that nests near my parents' house, and I'm accustomed to seeing them in rural Germany, but they come in pairs - occasionally in foursomes. Not in flocks!
But apparently they do come in flocks, and each family peels off to their own village after migrating.
The trees of the LORD are watered abundantly,
the cedars of Lebanon that he planted.
In them the birds build their nests;
the stork has her home in the fir trees.
Psalm 104:16-17
I still marvel at the lushness. The Galilee mountainsides are covered with wildflowers and grass. The Jordan River rushes through, a strong current making crossing impossible without a bridge. Pomegranates, lemons, and oranges grow casually in people's gardens. But Anna, the owner of the apartment we stay at, tells us that when the heat of summer comes, everything is dry and brown, toasted to a crisp.
All flesh is like grass
and all its glory like the flower of grass.
The grass withers,
and the flower falls,
but the word of the Lord remains forever.
1 Peter 1:24-5
I collected minuscule seashells and pet an extroverted cat on the edge of the Sea of Galilee. Now, when I read that when Jesus was in Capernaum, and "the sun was setting, all those who had any who were sick with various diseases brought them to him, and he laid his hands on every one of them and healed them," I think of that cat. I know the view of the lake from the hamlet of Capernaum, and I know what mountain the sun sets over.
Once the sun sets, villages on hilltops shimmer with light. Impossible to hide, those cities on hills. Jackals howl in the darkness. In the morning, I sit on the balcony and watch the haze on the Sea of Galilee. A pair of swallows builds a nest over the door to the apartment. As we drive to our destination, we see a fox - grey, with very large ears.
Foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head. Matthew 8:20
We say that Israel is a small country - and it is, if you're measuring by car or train or airplane. But it's nearly one hundred miles from Jerusalem to Nazareth, and forty more to Capernaum. When you read the gospel accounts, it seems that Jesus and His disciples are constantly traipsing back and forth between these cities. The authors barely give it a second thought, but that is a LOT of walking. Especially when you consider that nearly every footstep was accompanied by teaching or a miracle.
We drop south and rewind several thousand years: we float in the Dead Sea and are refreshed at the oasis of En Gedi. This is where David hid from Saul - a narrow strip of lush, hardy greenery running towards the Dead Sea, surrounded by arid rocky mountains. I cannot describe the relief of hearing the rush of water and the sound of birdsong in that starkly beautiful landscape. Now that I've seen the wilderness, the images in the Psalms are so much more real. As I hiked by the brook at En Gedi, I found myself thinking over and over,
As the deer panteth for the water,
so my soul longs for You.
Psalm 42:1
so my soul longs for You.
Psalm 42:1
Hiking up to Herod the Great's palace at Masada before sunrise hammers home the power-hungry heart of the notoriously feared king - and the beauty of this desolate part of the land. We look across the Dead Sea into the mountains of Moab - Ruth's home.
Back up in Galilee, we had not only looked across into Jordan, but also at mountains that border Syria. With all the political tension and tragedy in this area today, I am struck by passages like this:
So his fame spread throughout all Syria, and they brought Him all the sick, those afflicted with various diseases and pains, those oppressed by demons, those having seizures and paralytics, and He healed them. And great crowds followed Him from Galilee and the Decapolis, and from Jerusalem and Judea, and from beyond the Jordan. ~ Matthew 4:24-25
The hope of Jesus is not bound by regional boundaries or ethnic differences or cultural conflicts. It wasn't then, and it isn't now. Being on the land brought that home to me in a whole new way.
And Jerusalem. What a city. I will have more to say about it, but I will close with this for now:
As mountains surround Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds His people both now and forevermore.
Psalm 125:2
