Tuesday, January 25th

Tour Kibbutz Ein Dor

Christian sites on the Sea of Galilee: Capernaum, Mt. of Beatitudes

Travel north to Dan Nature Reserve

Visit Golan Heights

Visit Bashan winery in Avnei Eitan with winemaker Uri Rapp

The Israeli-Syrian Conflict over the Golan Heights: Myth and Realities, Dr. Yigal Kipnis

A night in the guest house at Ein Dor kabbutz is a lot like a night at church camp.  We had bunks and blankets which would have accommodated six to a room instead of just our groups of three, and big echo-y bathrooms with a row of shower stalls at one end.  The morning was beautiful, and we strolled past the greenery as we headed for breakfast and a guided tour of the place.  

Parts of the kabbutz are showing their years, with worn-looking trailer homes and empty buildings which had once provided basic housing.  The community was established decades ago and has undergone a lot of change; like many farms, its residents have left an assortment of equipment and structures in place in case of future need.  But while it may not fit the description of elegant living, the bountiful hospitality, quiet pace and bountiful greenery do a lot to recommend it.  The residents also enjoy an on-site nursery, child care, medical and dental facility, and nursing home.  As our host Ari put it, “They take care of you from cradle to grave.”  The community also has a herd of dairy cows, raises poultry for meat, hosts an educational program which puts Jewish and Arab children in a common learning environment, makes a line of cheeses, and operates a factory which produces cables and wiring products.  There are trees and flowers everywhere, and our guide proudly told us that there had not been "one tree, one blade of grass" back when the kibbutz was established.

Our bus pulled away from Ein Dor and headed towards the Sea of Galilee.  We’d glimpsed it in the near distance when we had been chatting the day before with Jehudit, but now we drove right up.  A monastery on the shore has opened their chapel to the pilgrims and tourists who come to gawk at its famous mosaic floor, depicting the miracle of the loaves and fishes.  A few steps up the road, a path leads through gardens and a series of outdoor worship spaces to another lovely lake-front chapel.  A few paces beyond is the shore itself, with reeds working their way between green rocks and an active population of birds on the watch for fishing opportunities.  The shore is littered with basalt rock (making me scan the hills for a volcano), and I managed a little walking on water myself by hopping from rock to rock in the shallows.  Two dozen or more other visitors shared the beach with us, compulsively dipping their hands in the water or mentally picturing Biblical events as they scanned the surface of the lake.  One group stood on shore and sang Spanish lyrics to a familiar hymn.

Just a few minutes’ ride up the hill stood the church celebrating the Sermon on the Mount.  A beautiful covered porch surrounds the chapel, inviting the visitor to stroll around and contemplate the view of the lake.  The nuns strongly discourage noise in the immediate area of the church, but we sat on the steps and reflected together on the two sites (shore and hillside) before being shushed back to the bus.

Our next stop was the Tel Dan nature preserve, almost on the Lebanon border.  The three springs which feed the Jordan River have their sources in this area, and the wide proto-Jordan stream rushes noisily by in a distinctly un-Israeli fashion.  The same crew of CTS students which hiked up Masada in the Judean desert last week strolled today along muddy paths between thick stands of bamboo and what appeared to be eucalyptus trees.  Our destination at the back of the park was an archeological site, which seemed to be the temple built by King Jeroboam.  In the same section of the park was the fortified position used more recently by the Israeli Army during their various border actions, before they moved on to the broad hillside a kilometer or so to the north.

Finally, we zig-zagged up to the Golan Heights, which Israel acquired almost as an afterthought on about day four of the Six Day War.  A former Syrian position has become a tourist destination, offering the twisted remains of several bunkers and an incredible view of the valley below.  Surrounding the exhibit and for several miles after were signs warning that the fields were mined.  Our guide said that Israel doesn’t have the resources to devote to finding and removing all the land mines; he says that every once in a while a stray cow will be killed in those fields, or a child will lose a limb.  It is hard to accept that I was standing just a few feet away from such hidden, deadly force.  A stray cat with an abbreviated tail and a nasty-looking fresh wound on his side joined our group for a bit, a living example of the dangers of life in the Golan.

Our last event for the day was a lecture by a local expert on the political situation in the Golan Heights.  We may not have quite done his presentation justice, as the exertions of the trip begin to stack up.   Still, it does appear from his information that someone has been playing fast and loose with borders and inciting incidents in order to justify a response.

And now we are tucked into our hotel in Tiberias, where we will stay for a few days.  The internet service is spotty at best, and they appear to have a strange aversion to electrical outlets; but the sheets are clean, and it is a relief to know we will have a stable sleep arrangement for the next few days.  Our group is starting to get a little punchy on this extended, intense trip, and small creature comforts are becoming important.

I think that today in the Galilee, I saw more tourists than at any time since leaving Jerusalem.  There are devout groups who want to sing hymns and walk in the footsteps of their savior, and more secular visitors who vie with each other (and me!) for the best places to take a photograph.  It makes me somewhat pensive to consider where I fall in that spectrum.  Ari, our lovely guide from the kibbutz and a self-described athiest, told us that he “doesn’t know where God falls in the equation, so [he] figured [he’ll] just skip it.”  Personally, I do think these impressive churches and monuments are more a testament to human faith than divine power.  I believe our Creator is always with us, and I have no particular need to seek the presence of the Divine in one spot or another.   And yet, it is incredibly helpful to my education both to put the Biblical stories in context and to witness the wide variety of responses to these places.  By the same token, walking the perimeter of the minefields and hearing about the frustration of the local residents doesn’t add much new information so much as provide the emotional context with which to better empathize.

In other words, I don’t need these experiences to think better or be a better Christian, but am finding them enormously helpful in my quest to “feel” better.