An Evening at the Sea of Galilee

The Sunday a week ago I had my first opportunity to get up to the Sea of Galilee on an overnight trip. Our ultimate destination was Tel Dan, which is one the main cultic sites I'll be studying this year and which is actually another forty-five minutes north of Galilee. (Tel Dan is about 3.5 hrs. from Jerusalem). Since we didn't leave Jerusalem till 3 pm on Sunday, we decided to spend the night in a hostel by the Sea and get to Dan first thing Monday morning.

I was traveling with David Ilan, who directing my project this year at Hebrew Union College, and the main purpose of the trip was for David to give a tour of Tel Dan to all the new rabbinical students at HUC. There are four HUCs -- one in Cincinnati, one in LA, one in NY and of course one in Jerusalem -- but all students, no matter which of the four they attend, have to spend their first year at the Jerusalem campus.


These sixty rabbinical students had arrived at Galilee earlier in the day and gone rafting along the headwaters of the Jordan River. They returned shortly after David and I arrived, and I met the three guys with whom I'd be sharing a room. One was from Columbia, SC, and was wearing an Atlanta Braves hat, so I knew I would like him. The other two were also very friendly: one from rural Illinois and the other from the SF Bay. The latter had most recently lived in Oakland and was familiar with the East Bay Conservation Corps, which was my placement agency in JVC.


I chatted with them until dinner. After dinner the entire group sang the Birkat ha-Mazon ("the blessing of the meal"), and then their director announced that they would be assembling for evening prayer at the shore of the Kinneret (the Hebrew word for the Sea of Galilee) and then small group discussions.


I asked my new friends if they would mind if I came along for the evening prayer, and they were happy to have me join them. We walked the twenty yards to the seashore and set our plastic chairs in the circle of students that was already forming. Close enough to hear the water lapping on the shore, we began with a call to prayer: each of us stood facing Jerusalem, bent our knees and bowed as prayers were recited in Hebrew. Then we took our seats, and the prayer leaders led in alternating Hebrew prayers from the siddur (Jewish prayer book), which I was able to follow on my Columbia friend's text and stanzas from a poem by the poet Rahel. The prayer lasted for maybe 30 minutes.

Afterwards the group broke into three groups according to how long one has been in Israel. Naturally, I invited myself to join the "fresh off the boat" group. The leader of this group was a Jewish man, who was originally from Rhodesia and came to Israel in the 1950's, shortly after its statehood. He gave a brief talk about the origins of Zionism in the context of 19th century European nationalism and then described his own experiences living among the early kibbutzim in Israel.


I was really struck by how much he emphasized the importance of community in those first kibbutzim with the implication that it has largely been lost in the development of the Jewish state. And if this "anakhnu" ("we-ness") has been lost in Israel, how much more so for Jews living in the United States. The year these students spend in Jerusalem is designed, I think, as an antidote to the individualism that is creeping into the Jewish community. If they can develop in these future religious leaders a Jewish identity that is steeped in communal experience, there is hope for the congregations over which they will preside.

After the conversation groups broke up, folks lingered around chatting, but I went back to my room and to bed. The next day we got up to Tel Dan first thing in the morning and had a great time walking around the site, which is surrounded by a beautiful natural reserve. But that'll have to wait for another post.

A Walk to the Damascus Gate

The Albright Institute where I'm living is about a five minute walk to the Damascus Gate, which is the main entrance into the Muslim Quarter of the Old City. The gate dates as far back as the Roman period, but the present structure was built during the Islamic period.

I took a walk down there today and brought along my camera to take some videos and photos of the street vendors. It gets pretty crowded, but I've been told the congestion is actually less than usual since it is Ramadan. Anyway, here were some of the stops on my walk.

This last picture is especially intended for my brother Brendan, who has a knack for sniffing out pizza places in every situation. (He once convinced a Domino's deliveryman to deliver a pizza to our campsite on Mt. Mitchell.) Brendan, you'll be happy to know that this restaurant is directly across the street from the Albright. I haven't tried it yet, but it looks pretty authentic, right?

The British Museum

My flights to Israel included a thirteen (!) hour layover in London. With so much time on my hands, I decided to take the train into the city and visit the British Museum. I had been there once before as an undergrad but had not given the Near Eastern collection much attention, which was a shame because it's a pretty amazing collection.

The trip was a success; almost everything I wanted to see was open. (The only disappointment was that the gallery of Sennacherib's Lachish reliefs, which depict the Assyrian king's campaign in Judah, was closed.) Here are some of the highlights of my visit.

First up is the "Kurkh Monolith" of Shalmaneser III, in which this Assyrian king describes his campaigning in Syria-Palestine. The report is especially noteworthy for its description of the Battle of Qarqar, in which Hadadezer of Damascus and Ahab of Israel repelled Shalmaneser's assault in 853 BC. It was a huge battle that went unreported in the Hebrew Bible.

Next is the Black Obelisk of the same king, Shalmaneser III. This obelisk describes the vassal kings who had to bring tribute to him. The close-up shows the second register from the top, which depicts Jehu, the usurping king of Israel, bowing down and paying tribute.

This next one is a tablet of the Babylonian Epic of Creation, also called the Enuma elish. This text actually formed part of my comprehensive exam in Akkadian -- not this exact tablet, but one from the same work. I was surpised at how little it was. It's hard enough to read when the text is blown-up to a readable font; the tablet itself would require (or result in) myopia.

Finally, this is the Cyrus Cylinder, which was issued by Cyrus the Great of Persia, who defeated Babylon in 539 BC and enabled the return of the exiled Jews back to Judah. In particular, this cylinder describes how Cyrus decreed the restoration of cult places, such as the temple in Jerusalem (although the temple is not mentioned specifically).

Well, I hope that wasn't too boring. All in all, it was a pretty exciting visit to the museum. In my courses at Hopkins we've discussed all the objects, so it was cool to see them in person.

Welcome to My Blog

Hi Everyone, and welcome to my first attempt at blogging.

In The Innocents Abroad Mark Twain wrote, "If you wish to inflict a heartless and malignant punishment upon a young person, pledge him to keep a journal a year." Despite this warning I have decided to start a blog as a way to share photos and news with you, my family and friends. I am not especially computer literate, but many have assured me that blogs have become foolproof. If you're reading this right now, we're off to a good start.

As many of you know, I'm spending the current acadmic year in Jerusalem, where I'll begin work on my dissertation. I'll be staying at the Albright Institute, which you can visit at http://www.aiar.org/, and working at the Nelson Glueck School of Biblical Archaeology, which is affiliated with the Hebrew Union College in Jerusalem. The fellows' program at the Albright includes a number of field trips to ancient sites in Israel, and one of my goals of this blog is to send along reports from these field trips.

If I run out of interesting things to say about life around Jerusalem, I may resort to discussing my dissertation, in which case you, dear reader, will be the one suffering a heartless and malignant punishment.

I hope you enjoy the posts you'll find here, and I also hope you'll keep in touch here or through email.

Love, Andrew