Embrace the heat

One of the most memorable sayings of the 2006 trip has already become a slogan of this 2008 edition, on the very first day we're here. "Embrace the heat," she said--an Israeli woman from Montreal who sat beside me on the flight to Tel Aviv two years ago. I had asked her if she had any suggestions for coping with the extreme climate change between home and here, and that was what she instantly came up with. It's good advice today too.

For man was it hot today! I asked Bill Hayes, mid-morning while we were touring the Hippos excavation, how he was doing, and his instant response was "Hot." I asked him again, mid-afternoon, how things were going, and again he gave a one-word answer, "Hot." I know from other conversations that Bill does indeed have more than a one-word vocabulary, so I take it that he really meant this reply!

Actually the heat took a toll on us all today. Another of our Canadians, Katie Anderson, got a little woozy not just once but twice. I chugged through my two litres of water in no time flat, then bought more, then re-filled my water bottle, and still felt thirsty. Who knows the temperature, but the thermometer's not the main thing anyway. Not even the howling wind helped cool us down all that much, after traipsing around all day.

We saw some neat sights, of course. Even though I'd been to them all before, hearing Mark's commentary a second time and building on what I too have read and learned since 2006 made each visit a fresh experience. One thing I hadn't thought of much before was just how limited Jesus' "world" really was. Realizing that he spent almost all of his life, apart from periodic trips to Jerusalem, in this area right around the Galilee was one thing that struck me with great force on our first trip. "This was his home turf--all this area I can see from the top of this dig!" But now a greater refinement has kicked in: No, not all of this area, but just a very small part of it was where Jesus spent most of his time, according to the Gospels anyway. This whole side of the lake we're living on, the east shore of the lake, was Gentile territory-- he seems to have only visited it once (when he cast the demons into the swine, somewhere right around here at Hippos). And the city right across from us, Tiberias, also seems to have been off-limits-- at least there's no record of Jesus ever having been there. And given its prominence as a political centre, built as a new capital on the Roman model just before Jesus was born, it really would make sense for him to have avoided it. So the scope of the land that he did visit and call home has been shrinking for me, visit by visit. I haven't really decided yet if I think that's cool, or disappointing!

Quinn Moerike, one of our sem students, had a neat comment while we were bobbing in the lake after getting back to the kibbutz in late afternoon. "This feels great," he said; "maybe even better than seeing all those holy sites!" Sort of like apples and oranges, really, but I knew exactly what he was getting at. Yes, the water level in the lake is so far down this year that all of the sandy areas are well-exposed, meaning that swimming has to take place "way out there," after quite a walk. And yes, today's ferocious wind had whipped up such a chop that we it was pretty much impossible to really "swim." But the sheer refreshment of plunging in, sweat-soaked and weary as we were after almost eight hours of hoofing around in this heat, was practically miraculous. "I think I've got an appointment, right here, at 12:30 every day," I said to our little group of swimmers-- Bill, Quinn, and Darren Siegle.

OK, so it's hot; I've dwelt on that enough now that I probably won't have to say too much about it later (though that's not an open-ended promise, sorry). But it's still fabulous to be back in this country again anyway. On many levels and for many reasons, it really does seem to be a holy land.