Week 6 Lows and Highs (Caves and Cliffs), Interfaith discussion, and Pentecost Room

 This week contained a lot of lows and highs--in elevation, not emotionally.  

Emotionally we are doing pretty great!  There is still a simmering chance of conflict in the middle east, a drought in the American West, and budget battles in the US legislature....  

But on the plus side, there were the Olympic Opening Ceremonies, a just dance smoothie activity for the branch youth, and getting setting apart for a new calling (I get to help plan district youth activities! Message me all your good ideas for the theme "Walk with Me"!)

Let's start with the lows:  

We headed to some underground caves in the Beit Guvrin/Tel Maresha national park.  This is in the Shephelah area, which means the low hills between the coast and the high mountains of Jerusalem.  Frank reminded the students to pronounce "Shephelah" with two syllables, like "Shfay-LAH."  One smart-aleck student replied, "Why don't we just say it with one syllable: "Shflah."

These underground caves were dug for lots of uses: 

1. To house pigeons (for food, sacrifices, and fertilizer)

2) For processing olives (used for cooking, anointing, and light)

3) For storing water 

(Below is another interesting water storage place called Mamilla Pool in Jerusalem.) 

4) For quarrying stone (you can see the tidy rows of chisel marks in the top half of the picture)

In the photo below someone carved a lovely staircase which broke and now lays on it side in the foreground.

Speaking of crazy staircases... 

Other uses of caves:

5) To harvest soft, chalky limestone (for plastering homes and cisterns).
The caves left behind by this process are shaped like bells, hence the bell caves. 

6) For great acoustics!  Tis sweet to sing together!

7) For great photo ops!

A few more underground photos:  This boat is and ancient graffito from a hidden room behind the Armenian chapel in the basement of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.  The ancient Greek lettering says, "Lord, we have come" and dates to 300 A.C.  It indicates that pilgrimage to holy sites has been around for a very long time!  If you're curious, learn more here. 

Below the current ground level of Damascus Gate was an ancient Roman Gate system.  You can see one arch in the lower left.  

Here's that same arch after we went down some stairs.

Inside is a surprisingly large underground space where soldiers could hang out, crush olives, and play games when they were bored.   

Scratched into a pavement stone is a game called alquerque, like xhinese checkers (link for more info) .  So guard duty wasn't only drudgery and vigilance, I guess.

Let's move on from the lows to the highs!

High places are good for...

1) Defensibility.  At Tel Lachish, in the Shefelah, students imagined trying to defend the fortified hill top from Assyrians.  It did not go well anciently - tons of arrowheads and ballista balls were found here, and the defeat was carved in graphic detail in stone murals in Sennacherib's palace in Ninevah. 

2) Visibility.  At Lachish, archaeologists found a remarkable clay potsherd (potsherd=a fragment from a jar- used like ancient scratch paper or postcards).   Potsherds are really common at these sites, but this particular one was special because it had ancient writing on it (a potsherd with writing is called an ostrucon).  The writing said that the observer could no longer see the signal fires of Azekah, which meant that Azekah had already been conquered by the Babylonians, so Lachish would be next!  

To bring this story to life, we brought a mirror to the top of Azekah, and the other class had brought a mirror to the top of Lachish.  Frank was pointing out the general location on the horizon, and Randy Smith (a humanitarian service volunteer) was pointing the mirror trying to reflect a ray of  sunlight to a hilltop 20 miles away.  Meanwhile, they were doing the same thing from Lachish.  Amazingly enough, we saw a flash of light several times, like a tiny dot where the farthest mountains melted into the hazy horizon. 

 They saw our mirror flash several times, too, and it was an exciting moment!  The picture can't do it justice, but it can give you a sense of the difficulty of the task.

Here is another type of visibility in a high place.  This is a solar power generation facility in the Negev.  It catches the light from lots of mirrors arranged around it on the ground and then in turn gives off a blinding light as the components inside are superheated and used to create power.  Frank calls it the eye of Sauron!  On a sunny day you can see it from miles away.

3) High places are also good for making things seem important!  Like the cedars of Lebanon (a symbol of pride)!  This is the Palace Hotel, recently renovated as the Waldorf Astoria Hotel.  Here's an interesting article about its role in Israeli independence.    

We poked our head in to see the luxurious lobby.

The Grand Staircase!

4) High places are good for giving you a different perspective.  This is the view overlooking Maktesh Ramon, a crater-type depression made by erosion.

We felt small as we explored the Solomon's Pillars rock formation in Timna. 

 

Between the lows and the highs is where a lot of life happens!

The area around Timna has rich mineral deposits and was mined by ancient Edomites, Egyptians, and Israelites.  The gift shop/cafe reflects the Egyptian influence.

I'm not sure what influence is reflected by the swan and flamingo boats, but they add a whimsical touch to this manmade lake here in the desert. 

Here's another whimsical photo, this one from West Jerusalem.

This is a fountain in West Jerusalem where Jews from Morocco settled and brought artistic influences from that area.

At a restaurant called Smashburger, the seating choices were outdoor on the street, indoor in a breezy restaurant, or in the back treehouse.  

The treehouse section had great views of wildlife.

But we found out too late that the treehouse section was also the smoking section!  All our aches and pains disappeared after inhaling all of that non-tobacco smoke...

This is the Friends of Zion museum.  It honors early leaders in the cause of Israeli independence and emerging statehood. 

Yitzak Rabin was the Prime Minister of Israel in 1992.  He was a former soldier, but as a statesman he  believed peace was a goal worthy of extreme sacrifice.  He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, but right wing Israelis labelled him a traitor, leading to his assassination.  How sad that attempts at peace can be so costly.

We attended a really special interfaith gathering led by Ophir Yarden, who teaches the Modern  Perspectives in Israeli History class at BYU Jerusalem.  This interfaith group meets monthly, and when there is a Christian speaker, they hold it in a Jewish location and vice versa.  

This month's speaker was Jeremy Stavitsky, a rabbi, high school teacher and former headmaster of Himmelfarb high school in Jerusalem.  His talk centered on the issues of meaning, suffering, and love.  He touched on the story of Abraham, the writings of Viktor Frankl, and his own experiences dealing with suffering, love, God, and morality in the modern age.   Here is a summary of a few main points.

"By stopping Abraham just before he strikes with the knife, God is saying I am not a god like Molech, demanding child sacrifice. While humans have it in them to do this terrible thing, God is saying, I’m not that kind of God.  I want your children to grow up and bless you.  So what kind of God is he?  In the story of Abraham he defines himself as a close God and a loving God.  By the time of the story of Judah and Joseph, we don't see God's angel saving Joseph's life.  We don't see his hand on the knife.  But by that time in the text, God is involved in the reader, who can see by now the matrix of God's purposes at work in the narrative.

"Relationships of love stay with us even when that person has departed. During forced marches in the cold Polish winters, Viktor Frankl thought about his wife's smile and inwardly talked with her.  Even though she was not physically present, the love that connected them sustained him and helped him learn a great truth, that love is the ultimate and highest goal to which man can aspire.  The salvation of man was through love and in love.  

"The only way to grasp the essence of another person is through love, through seeing their potential.  As I learn about each new group of students, I study them, trying to see their essence, peeling off the parts that are non-essential to reveal the inner being.  If you love someone, you don’t just see the parts of the young people that irritate you, you see who they can become in the years ahead.  

"My recently widowed daughter [whose soldier husband was killed during the recent war] was left with a young son to raise.  Some would say she would have been better off without this child to care for, but her son provides her with a focus of love and of work.  She can give and receive love from this child, and it gives a meaning and a structure to her days.  She can build a world around this meaningful work and learn how to love and be loved."

If you want to read more about this very fascinating discussion, summary notes are here.  

We went to two intriguing exhibits at the Notre Dame of Jerusalem Guest House.  The first was the Shroud of Turin exhibit.  A replica of the shroud is on display, and even more interesting is the investigation into what the experience of being crucified was like for those who suffered this tortuous sentence.  

It is hard to see, but there is an image of a face near the center right side of the picture below, with feet at the center left.

Here is a crown of thorns, shaped like a cap to inflict maximum pain.

We don't like to think about the whips that were used to scourge Jesus Christ.  Pilate was thinking that this scourging would prompt pity from onlookers, but it didn't change their minds.  

This form of punishment was meant to inflict maximum pain and humiliation as a deterrent to others.  It is sobering to think of Jesus allowing this much suffering despite his innocence and his power to avert it.

This display explains that crucifixion victims usually would have died from asphyxiation, as they would have to endure unbearable pain just to find a position that allowed them to breathe.  

How amazing that Jesus had the strength and breath to be able to utter those last seven statements in mortality:

"Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do." (Luke 23:34)

"Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise." (Luke 23:43)

"Woman, behold your son," and to the disciple, "Behold your mother." (John 19:26-27)

"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Matthew 27:46; Mark 15:34)

"I thirst." (John 19:28)

"It is finished." (John 19:30)

"Father, into your hands I commit my spirit." (Luke 23:46) 

The next exhibit we saw was the Pentecost Room.  Chilean artist Daniel Cariola painted 4 murals depicting 119 people encountering the Holy Spirit as a mighty wind and tongues of flame.  

For a video about this Pentecost Room, click here.  Characters are portrayed with various responses.  Some are wholeheartedly embracing the experience.

Some are overcome with emotion.

Some show surprise or other emotions.

This is Mary Madgalene, who looks like she has been expecting the comforting sign of the Savior's presence. 

Mary the Mother of Jesus looks calm and ready to embrace this moment.

Why 119 people?  Because you, the viewer, are the 120th disciple, invited into the painting and into the moment. 

The ceiling of the room shows the holy spirit as a dove, surrounded by Old Testament prophets and matriarchs, angels, and the writers of the four gospels.

This was a very moving presentation.  I don't often stop to ponder the story of the Pentecost and how it empowered the church after the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, but this moment galvanized the faith of the new converts and propelled missionary work forward.  I think about all the challenges faced by the Savior's original apostles and disciples, and I can only guess at how this must have felt to be given a portion of the Lord's spirit and power.  I imagine the outpouring of the spirit at the Kirtland temple had some of the same effects on early latter-day saints.  Similarly, the presentation of the endowment in the Nauvoo temple gave pioneers the strength to cross a continent with more assurance, cooperation, and sacrifice than their natural capacity.  I have felt this miracle of greater strength than my own, greater hope and assurance, and a greater capacity to love as a result of saying yes to invitations from Jesus Christ!  

The Pentecost Room presentation did a great job of bringing the scriptures to life in ways that make us think and want to be better. 

Jumping now from Jerusalem to the Negev, we are jumping to the Tabernacle replica at Timnah, a journey of 4 hours.  Which hopefully not how long you feel you've been reading this post!

Highlights:  Increasingly sacred space, from the courtyard to the outer room to the inner holy of holies, each step required more purity and a more narrow definition of who could enter.  

Sacrifices would reflect offering the best to God in gratitude for a covenant relationship of guidance and protection.  The blood of the sacrifice would be spread on the horns of the altar and also sprinkled as described in the scriptures to purify those who served in the tabernacle.  

Here is a look into the altar.  Below the grate is where the wood would be lit to cook the offerings. 

The exterior walls and the tabernacle coverings were connected together with cords that allowed the whole assemblage to be packed up and carried along in the desert. 

The table of shewbread held 12 round loaves for the 12 tribes.  

The menorah would brighten this otherwise shady internal space.  

The altar of incense was purified with the blood of the sacrificial animals, and the ascending incense represented continual prayers to God.

The priest wore the stones representing the 12 tribes when he entered the holy of holies on the day of Atonement.  He symbolically carried the tribes into the presence of the Lord on that day.

There is a pocket on the back of the priest's ephod that held the Urim and Thummim which were a means of discerning divine answers through revelation.  

Wrapping up this long-overdue post:  I saw a woman making this intricate mosaic, and I couldn't do much to communicate except to sign "beautiful" in ASL, which she seemed to understand.  

The winter greenery is still hanging on here!  The yellow wildflowers are a beautiful touch.  It is the season for almond blossoms as well (not pictured, those are olive trees).

My last thought as I get ready to post this is thinking back on how difficult it was for us to reflect the light to our friends on the distant hilltop when we stood on Azekah and tried to find Lachish.  Our mirror was so small, and the target was so small, that it seemed unlikely the connection would ever work or be powerful enough to have any effect.   Some people wanted to give up and stop trying, which was probably the most logical thing to do.  But when those tiny glints of light came, it sent a thrill through everyone.  The impact of this packet of light travelling all the way from the Sun to that distant mirror and then to our eyes, sent by someone who cared enough to think about where we were and what we were hoping to see, it seemed to have a power disproportionate to its size.  

I thought of my beautiful daughters and their sweethearts, across the world, and the difficulty in trying to connect with them with the time zone and everyone's busy lives.  And how sweet when the connection happens!  

I think of Jesus Christ, trying to link to us through love despite the distancing effect of history and secular philosophies and distracting algorithms.  But when that connection occurs, it's like a flash of gold.  It's like lightning.  It's like a pulse of power.  And the reality and the memory of that glowing connection carry me through until the next flash which I trust is coming soon!  Hold on, the light will come!