Memorial and Independence Day
After my adventures in Egypt, I must admit it’s somewhat difficult to return to writing on the normal life here in Israel. Even so, I’ll give it my best shot.
This past week was Israeli Memorial Day and Independence Day on Tuesday and Wednesday, respectively. The Hebrew University, like it has for other holidays this semester, gave us both days off in the middle of the week. The first holiday, Israeli Memorial Day (Yom HaZikaron), remembers Israel’s fallen soldiers and victims of terror. Each year the number of Israeli deaths from war and other hostilities is counted and added to a running total number of deaths since early Zionists arrived to the Holy Land in the mid-19th century. This year’s fatalities included 138 soldiers and security officers killed in the line of duty, so that, in Israel’s modern history, 22,123 are counted among the dead in the defense of the state. There was a ceremony at the Western Wall on Monday night and two moments of silence commemorating the day. I spent Tuesday on a solo trip up to the Galilee, and at 11:00 am our bus stopped, everyone got off, and stood quietly for a moment as sirens cried out for the dead.
I reached Tiberias around noon and rented a bike for the day. While I had visited the Galilee when Mom came, I wanted to spend plenty of time in solitude, prayer, and meditation in the area where much of Christ’s earthly ministry took place. A bike ride among the hills surrounding the Kinerret (Galilee) afforded me just that opportunity. I was seemingly unprepared, though, for the physical task at hand. I hadn’t biked for eight months, and the ride up the Mount of Beatitudes was a tiring lesson that the giant hill is not named “mount” in vain. To make matters worse, I arrived to the Mount of Beatitudes when it was closed for a three hour break. Luckily for me, though, a tour bus was leaving late and I was able to sneak in before the gates closed.
I sat on a rock overlooking the Sea of Galilee and enjoyed a spectacular view of the Kinerret region. On the left, the hills and the mountains of the Golan Heights rose far above the sea. It was from one of these cliffs, the Bible records, that demon-possessed pigs flung themselves after having an encounter with Christ. Below me I could see Capernaum to the left, the ancient fishing town and home of Peter located just yards from the Galilee beach, and Tagba on the right, where the Miracle of Loaves and Fishes is remembered. The sky was a clear blue, but the heat of the day caused a blurry view of the distance. At some point far away the water and mountains seemed to merge with the sky in azure haze. Heaven met earth and the infinite encountered the finite in the same place where Jesus Christ, God-of-God and man-of-man, united these seperate realities so long ago.
After the Mount of Beatitudes I biked to the Jordan River, my first encounter with the biblical stream that flows into and out of the Sea of Galilee. The river, however, was no mighty Amazon or raging Colorado. It was about the size of the Mohican and, even in its full stage, the Jordan looked like a large irrigation canal one might see in the States. It certainly wouldn’t have been a difficult task for Israel to cross the Jordan River as the nation entered the Promised Land. Truth be told, save for its biblical significance, I didn’t find much of interest in the Jordan’s muddy waters. Since I was by myself and have already been baptized, I decided not to go swimming but instead immersed my feet at the water’s edge (Christ says in John 13:10, “The one who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but is completely clean.”). The river cooled me down and was a nice break before the tough ride back to Tiberias.
On Wednesday, Israel celebrated its 58th year of freedom from the British with Independence Day (Yom Ha’atzma’ut) festivities. The holiday, also a salute to Zionism and the principle of a Jewish state, is remembered with carnivals, special ceremonies, and family get-togethers. Arabs mark the day quite differently. To them, Al-Nakba (the Catastrophe) is a day of remembering the destroyed Arab villages and displaced Palestinian refugees from the 1948 War of Independence. The differences between the Israeli celebration of Yom Ha’atzma’ut and the Arab remembrace Al Nakba are just one illustration of how tremendously divided the two peoples are in culture and perspective.
This past week was Israeli Memorial Day and Independence Day on Tuesday and Wednesday, respectively. The Hebrew University, like it has for other holidays this semester, gave us both days off in the middle of the week. The first holiday, Israeli Memorial Day (Yom HaZikaron), remembers Israel’s fallen soldiers and victims of terror. Each year the number of Israeli deaths from war and other hostilities is counted and added to a running total number of deaths since early Zionists arrived to the Holy Land in the mid-19th century. This year’s fatalities included 138 soldiers and security officers killed in the line of duty, so that, in Israel’s modern history, 22,123 are counted among the dead in the defense of the state. There was a ceremony at the Western Wall on Monday night and two moments of silence commemorating the day. I spent Tuesday on a solo trip up to the Galilee, and at 11:00 am our bus stopped, everyone got off, and stood quietly for a moment as sirens cried out for the dead.
I reached Tiberias around noon and rented a bike for the day. While I had visited the Galilee when Mom came, I wanted to spend plenty of time in solitude, prayer, and meditation in the area where much of Christ’s earthly ministry took place. A bike ride among the hills surrounding the Kinerret (Galilee) afforded me just that opportunity. I was seemingly unprepared, though, for the physical task at hand. I hadn’t biked for eight months, and the ride up the Mount of Beatitudes was a tiring lesson that the giant hill is not named “mount” in vain. To make matters worse, I arrived to the Mount of Beatitudes when it was closed for a three hour break. Luckily for me, though, a tour bus was leaving late and I was able to sneak in before the gates closed.
I sat on a rock overlooking the Sea of Galilee and enjoyed a spectacular view of the Kinerret region. On the left, the hills and the mountains of the Golan Heights rose far above the sea. It was from one of these cliffs, the Bible records, that demon-possessed pigs flung themselves after having an encounter with Christ. Below me I could see Capernaum to the left, the ancient fishing town and home of Peter located just yards from the Galilee beach, and Tagba on the right, where the Miracle of Loaves and Fishes is remembered. The sky was a clear blue, but the heat of the day caused a blurry view of the distance. At some point far away the water and mountains seemed to merge with the sky in azure haze. Heaven met earth and the infinite encountered the finite in the same place where Jesus Christ, God-of-God and man-of-man, united these seperate realities so long ago.
After the Mount of Beatitudes I biked to the Jordan River, my first encounter with the biblical stream that flows into and out of the Sea of Galilee. The river, however, was no mighty Amazon or raging Colorado. It was about the size of the Mohican and, even in its full stage, the Jordan looked like a large irrigation canal one might see in the States. It certainly wouldn’t have been a difficult task for Israel to cross the Jordan River as the nation entered the Promised Land. Truth be told, save for its biblical significance, I didn’t find much of interest in the Jordan’s muddy waters. Since I was by myself and have already been baptized, I decided not to go swimming but instead immersed my feet at the water’s edge (Christ says in John 13:10, “The one who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but is completely clean.”). The river cooled me down and was a nice break before the tough ride back to Tiberias.
On Wednesday, Israel celebrated its 58th year of freedom from the British with Independence Day (Yom Ha’atzma’ut) festivities. The holiday, also a salute to Zionism and the principle of a Jewish state, is remembered with carnivals, special ceremonies, and family get-togethers. Arabs mark the day quite differently. To them, Al-Nakba (the Catastrophe) is a day of remembering the destroyed Arab villages and displaced Palestinian refugees from the 1948 War of Independence. The differences between the Israeli celebration of Yom Ha’atzma’ut and the Arab remembrace Al Nakba are just one illustration of how tremendously divided the two peoples are in culture and perspective.
posted by Jason | 1:40 AM
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