Sandwiched between Galilee to the north and Judea to the south, the region of Samaria figures prominently in the history of Israel in both the Hebrew Scriptures and New Testament. The city of Samaria was founded by Omri, King Ahab’s father, as the capital of Israel in 870 BCE. According to tradition, John the Baptist is buried there. It was also known as an area that worshipped Baal and other gods as well as its people “intermingling” with other tribes in the region. Today is it a dry, but green, land of single mountains, hills, and fields.
Why were Samaritans considered people to be avoided in Jesus’ time? There is an interesting article here about the causes of prejudice in Samaria. They worshipped God at Shechem on Mount Gerizim just as in the time of Joshua, as opposed to the Jews who worshipped at the Temple in Jerusalem. The Samaritans furthered the rift by producing their own version of the Pentateuch. This is probably why Samaritans were considered people to avoid in Jesus’ time. Even Jesus confronted the woman at the well while passing through this area. Rivalry with the southern kingdom (Judah) and the northern kingdom (Israel) continued through the first century.
On his way to Jerusalem from Nazareth, Jesus passed through the village in Burqin where he heard cries for help from ten lepers who were isolated in quarantine in an underground cave, a common practice at the time for people afflicted with this disease. Today the majority of Burqin’s residents are Muslims and it was reported that only ten Christian families now live in the town. Located on a high hill in the village, Burqin Church (also known as St. George’s or Church of the Ten Lepers) it is the fourth oldest church in the world built in the fourth century. Since the miracle of healing the ten lepers, Christian pilgrims have visited this site as St. Helena asked that a church be built here.
Jesus spent most of his ministry around the shores of Israel’s largest freshwater lake, the Sea of Galilee, now peppered with ancient synagogues and Christian pilgrimage sites. Known as Kinneret in Hebrew (also called Lake Tiberias, and the Sea of Chinnereth or the Lake of Gennesaret in the Old Testament), it is 13 miles long, 8 miles wide, and about 720 feet below sea level. Today it reminds me of a beach destination, with families coming to swim or boat, with schools of young people learning how to wind surf.
But surrounding the Sea of Galilee are places where Jesus taught and healed. Jesus most likely came here after his time in the desert (following his baptism in the Jordan River). Galilee is a region of Israel/Palestine north of Judea, separated by Samaria and south of Lebanon. Herod Antipas, (21 BCE—39 CE), son of Herod I the Great (read about the Herodium) became tetrarch of Galilee and ruled throughout Jesus of Nazareth’s ministry. Jesus is reported as having referred to him with contempt as “that fox” (Luke 13:32).
There is an old tale (which also shows up in early maps) describing Jerusalem as the center of the world, a city visit by kings and prophets, pilgrims and mystics, rulers and conquerors. Today we know it as a city claimed by three faith traditions: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Physically, it is a divided city into four quarters that somewhat blend into each other as you cross from one quarter to the next: the Jewish Quarter, the Armenian Quarter, the Christian Quarter, and the Muslim Quarter. All areas are a mix of secular and religious. More than 4,000 years old, its walls were rebuilt by Ezra and Nehemiah following the Babylonian captivity, the Romans (1st century), Diocletian and Aelia Eudocia (Byzantine 4th century), and Crusaders (11th century). The actual “cardo” from Roman times is actually about 15 feet below the cobblestones we walked on today.
On our various days visiting the Old City, we entered through a variety of gates. The current walls around the Old City (which have spread out since Jesus’ time) were built by Sulieman the Magnificent in 1542. Most of the gates we entered were built by Siran, an Ottoman-Turkish architect who lived in the 16th century.
Entering the Damascus Gate (Nablus Gate) is a different experience depending on the time of day. At 7:00 in the morning it is quiet with shops boarded up, trash being collected, and cats everywhere scurrying to find the last scrap to eat. By mid-morning and throughout the afternoon the gate (as well as the “main street”) is a bustling enterprise of merchants selling their wares from grape leaves, bread, spices, t-shirts, Disney knock-offs, and within the city we even came upon a shop for University of Alabama fans. We used this particular gate frequently, built upon an older gate built in Roman times. The gate’s name in Hebrew is “Sha’ar Shkem” since one travels away from this gate southwards; in Jesus’ time one would have passed through the city of Shkhem (North/Nablus) north to Damascus (Zion Gate). The street was designed by the Romans in the 2nd century CE after the city was established and rebuilt by Hadrian, which razed the city following the failed Bar-Kochva’s revolt in 136 CE. Another route split from the north gate from this main street to the Valley Cardo, which ended near the dung gate.
From Monday, June 9th through Sunday, June 23rd my husband and I joined a group of pilgrims from the Episcopal Church in Connecticut to visit our Holy Land for the first time. I use the word “our” because it is a land that belongs to all of God’s people. While I have been home (a bit jet-lagged) for four days now, I am still coming to grips in my mind what I experienced and what I am going to do about it.
My expectations were simple: I wanted to walk in the places where Jesus and other people from scripture had been. I wanted this to be something other than a vacation to another part of the world, especially since we’ve travelled so much abroad in recent years. My expectations were rewarded, but they were also challenged, enlightened, troubled, comforted, and so much more. I went as an American Christian from the Episcopal tradition who happens to be from Connecticut and is a Christian educator. I returned the same, but different; more cognizant of the rights I have as an American citizen and a person who can freely worship (as well as travel) anywhere I choose. Not so for most of the people who call Israel/Palestine home. Jerusalem could be called the “center of the universe” for many faith traditions. Whose land is it? It’s complicated.
This past Sunday, the confirmands in my home parish shared their “faith statements” to parents, mentors, and Vestry members. With twenty-three confirmands (all about to graduate from 8th grade), it was an interesting “listening session” to hear how those who have spent a year in preparing for confirmation shared what they believed – and what they did not believe. All appropriate for this developmentally “searching” phase of adolescent life. Lots of “I’m not sure of all this Bible stuff.” “I feel closest to God when …” “My favorite experience has been …” “Even though I am still questioning …”
Then this piece came across my screen this week. Tim Schenck, rector of St. John the Evangelist in Hingham, Massachusetts and known as the creator of Lent Madness, posed a question on Twitter that one of his parish high school confirmands asked him: What difference does it all make?