Going Deeper

The Rock, his work is perfect, for all his ways are justice. A God of faithfulness and without iniquity, just and upright is he.--Deuteronomy 32:4

We have just completed our fourth day of excavation. It has been toilsome labor but full of anticipation and excitement, with new discoveries made, questions answered, and new questions made almost constantly. It is captivating work. Yet, as our teacher and leader John Monson playfully quipped, first breaking the rocky soil where treasures may be hid underneath is like "gardening in hell." (John is the guy in white in the first excavation photo.) Swinging the pick axe deep into the earth is one of more rewarding aspects to our work, but when it hits immovable rock, beware! The jolt to the hands is bruising! Rock being so ubiquitious in Israel, it is no wonder God is likened to it. Any ancient Hebrew would understand the analogy. God stand firm, and we dare not go against him, as we in our sinfulness are so often prone to do.

I have four pictures showing our excavation progress from day to day. Sorry if it is hard to see the order--this mobile blog app doesn't give me a lot of control. But I think it should give you a picture of the progress we have made easily enough.

As you will see, most of out excavation hit bedrock near the surface in the first day. But we were encouraged to keep digging and not move to an adjacent site, especially because of some distinct walls that we eventually found amongst pottery shards know to be from the iron age.

Yesterday, day 3, I made the startling discovery of a tiny semi-precious stone carved as a bead. I really couldn't believe my eyes when I saw it in the dirt--and it took me a few seconds to come around to picking it up, trying first to think how this colorfully alien piece may have gotten there accidentally. It made a big splash with the formen at our site. I'm hoping the expert analysis will shed some light on its origins and value, especially for determining the date of our site, and that it will in some way corroborate the evidence that already exists for this being a Davidic fortress. It is a wonder that I even saw it, because the tools we are using do not facilitate discovery of such small objects.

Yossi Garfinkle, the dig director pictured here atop the ruins of the ancient city wall, gave us a detailed lecture on the rock-solid reasons already known for determining this to be in fact a fortress of King David. But some scholars, known as "minimalists," are recalcitrant and continue to reject the evidence, however increasingly strong it is. Since they cannot refute the evidence, it seems they have stooped now to underming it all by leveling personal insults concerning Yossi's scientific methods. Yossi and this excavation have been in the major news networks, the New York Times, National Geographic included. It will be picked up by ABC soon as well. So tune in!

Yossi is not a believer, but he has come to the conclusion that the Bible is faithful concerning the great King named David and concerning the only city of antiquity with two gates (lit. "Shaarim," see 1 Samuel 15,17), the one which we have been excavating. Wouldn't it be great if he- and the people of Israel- repent and turn to God, coming to know the Rock himself, the faithful God who gave the world the Bible and it's good news through them?

Digging for Golda

And the men of Israel and Judah rose with a shout and pursued the Philistines as far as Gath and the gates of Ekron, so that the wounded Philistines fell on the way from Shaaraim as far as Gath and Ekron. And the people of Israel came back from chasing the Philistines, and they plundered their camp. And David took the head of the Philistine and brought it to Jerusalem, but he put his armor in his tent.--1 Samuel 15:52-54

Today has been an exhausting day of digging Khirbet Qeiyafa, the ruins of Qeiyafa, also believed to be the fortified outpost of King David and Solomon calle Shaaraim. It overlooks the valley of Elah, believed by many to be the site of the great battle between David and Goliath. (see valley photo)

This has been our second day of excavating. After only 5 hours of sleep, we got onto the bus taking us to the dig at 4:30am today. Such an early start allows us to work in the cooler hours of the day, and is meant to acclimate us to the daily rising temperature. Sort of
cooking a frog by slowly raising the temp of its water. The heat was tolerable, but the blisters and sore backs and feet have made the work slow. Hopefully these annoyances will go away soon as we build more core muscle strength and callouses. It is really exciting work, and that distracts me from much of the pain. That was nothing though compared with yesterday. Yesterday I had sunscreen in my eyes all day. Just thinking about it makes me tear-up. I had trouble keeping my eyes open for the picture of me posing with the first pot handle I found.( see photo).

The pot handle is likely from the Byzantine period, and it seems that what we are excavating is a Byzantine structure presumed to be overlying the iron age citadel of David and Solomon's outpost. There we hope to find some Hebrew inscriptions giving clear reference to David or Solomon--that's the pot of Golda (Meir)!

Today, while peering into a cistern discovered and excavated previously, I made an exciting discovery. A Palestinian Viper had made it there before me.

The dig is being directed by the renowned archaeologist Yossi Garfinkel, and there are about 90 others, mostly students, involved. I have enjoyed getting to know some of the other students not from our group, and speaking of Yeshua haMesiach (Jesus the Messiah) as much as comfortably possible. One, it turns out, is a Jew who immigrated to Israel from Sweden! We had fun talking Swedish with each other today. When he doesn't want others to understand him, he speaks Swedish with me. His name is Sam. I have also had conversations with several others: Sarah, a higschooler from Long Island, Sara, a college student who grew up in Skokie, Shiphrah, a married Israeli college student and orthodox Jew born in BC, Canada, and Hodeah, an Israeli college classmate of hers.

Since our tour around the sea of Galilee, a few days have passed, and much during that time is also worthy of mention, but time constrains me to just mention a few highlights. Jericho was nothing like I expected it. The oldest known city on earth, and at the lowest elevation as well, it is in a hot desert. I pictured it up in the hills where things were green and not so hot. It was amazing to see the excavation which has uncovered a history of pagan and cannanite worship going back to even further than the 10th millennium BC. The evident speedy erosion of the excavated walls that were found (see photo) is a good explanation for why the (demolished) Biblical walls of Jericho have not been found also--they quite easily could have eroded away.

Also important to mention is our visit to Bethlehem to see the very, very likely spot where Jesus was born. It was a
sad experience for me, but drives home the reason he became man to die for our sins: there was a lot of pushiness and crankiness expressed by some people impatient to have a look. The orthodox embellishments felt overdone and out of place for such remebrance of the humility of God, who in Christ became a poor helpless baby to ultimely save us from our sins. Here is a picture of me crouching beside the spot where his manger lay (see photo).

We are glad to have ended our travels with Ozmir, our bus driver. He was in a seemingly endless sqabble with our leader John. John says he clearly had his own agenda for the trip--making some money off us by taking us to choice shops and restaurants which would give him a cut of their profit, or so I think.

Now it is time to wash the pottery and glass fragments we have found over the last two days to enable better identification of the time periods from which they come, and detect any writing on them as well. We are looking for Iron age pottery, which will give more evidence for the historicity of the site as that belonging to David and Solomon in the 10th c BC.

More news to come!

Sea of Galilee

(From 8-20)

The day was focused around visiting places Jesus frequented, and then meditating upon and discussing the Scripture passages which reference these places.

The day began for me with a wake-up call from a low-flying squadron of Israeli fighter jets screaming overhead toward the border with Syria. It is assumed that the Israelis are preparing for an attack upon Iran, though with all that is happening in Syria and Egypt, one cannot be sure the threat is so distant.

Our last stop for the day was high up in Galilee overlooking a pass leading to the Sea of Galilee. Here too we were greeted by the Israeli military, this time a heavily armed attack helicopter. The pass was used by all the kings and armies of antiquity, as the land of Israel was the only bridge between great empires to its North and South, and the port of lucrative trade in all directions as well. Israel still is "the Land Between," only now the target, not just the battleground.

The weather has been unusually windless, which makes the heat from direct sunlight draining. I'm drinking lots of water, but maybe not enough since I've been having some low-grade headaches.

After breakfast we boarded our bus and drove to the other side of the lake and visited What tradition claims is the location of the sermon on the mount. There are many spots in the area that would fit, but this spot for whatever reason is claimed to be the one. It is built up for tourists and has a late-romantic Italian Catholic chapel over the site. There are a lot of pilgrims coming from all over to see this. It doesn't impress me. I prefer the places where tourists aren't going so much, places that reflect what life was actually like in Biblical times.

Thankfully, we have great teachers with us who are leading us. John Monson, my Old Testament prof, grew up in Israel and knows it, it's language and history like the back of his hand. He is truly a native, and it is fascinating just to see him interract with our driver and other natives. The middleastern way of relating and communicating is so loud and expressive. Odd for someone who is of Scandinavian roots as he is, and what a contrast to my last several days in Northern Europe. The bus driver doesn't want to keep driving into the evenings, which has kept us on a tighter schedule than John would like, and has led to an odd-couple sort of relationship. Our driver is actually bossing us around a little, and calls John when he thinks we should have already returned to the bus! By western standards John is certainly deficient in time consciousness, but by mideastern standards it seems to me he may be felt to be lacking as well!

We also visited Capernaum, and got a look at what is almost certainly the walls of Peter's house and therefore the place where Jesus would have spent a lot of time. Here there is also a chapel and also the ruins of a Byzantine chapel both built upon it. The Catholic chapel is a modern UFO-like structure hovering above the site. It has a glass floor over Peter's courtyard which in my photos looks like a buch of big fieldstones. We also saw there the reconstructed ruins of a synagogue, the foundations of which were from Jesus' day.

Chorazim was also visited, a picture of it's 3-4th c AD synagogue shows it's dark gray basalt rock common over the entire region. There is a "seat of Moses" pictured as well. Also seen is an ornamental carving of Medusa which indicates the (dangerous?) influence of Hellenism.

In the middle of the day we ate fried fish from the Sea of Galilee, and then took a boat ride out to the middle of the lake. From there we could see the slope (pictured) over which the demon posessed pigs likely raced into the Sea.

We also read and meditated some more on passages speaking of Jesus' ministry by the lake. Dr. Dana Harris led us in a meditation on John 21, emphasizing that Jesus had deliberately reminded Peter of his betrayal inorder to deal with it and restore him psychologically. In our meditation on Mark 4, she also made the point that it was Jesus' decision to lead the disciples into a storm, and so we too should not expect "smooth sailing" or be surprised by severe difficulties that come out way when we seek to follow him.

Summer Fun

I am Yahweh, who made all things, who alone stretched out the heavens, who spread out the earth by myself--Isaiah 44:24

Over land and over seas, by car, by air, by train, and by foot, there is nowhere I can go where the Lord has not already been. Some are new places to me, and some are old haunts. But whether new or old, God has always been there. Infact, here in Israel, his feet have actually touched the same earth as mine do now. To those places I have already been, my return has been no surprise to him. There have been a few moments actually when it has felt like he's been preparing events and meetings in anticipation of my arrival.

Much has changed and much remains the same. New buildings and new babies; older faces and older friends.

These last few weeks of travel began with a short car ride from the comforts of the Chicago ex-urbs to the idyllic coutryside of the Frank Lloyd Wright colony near Kalamazoo, Michigan. There my old friend Ken Potsic is rearing his toddler while maintaining his burgeoning buisness as one of America's youngest and best bassoon repair specialists. It was time for my Heckel's bi-annual check-up, and high time I paid Ken a visit at his new (rented) home, a Frank Lloyd Wright original. Ken has a workshop out back in the wooded meadow. He knows it will be hard to leave when his wife, the executive director of the Kalamazoo Symphony, will likely move the family out to a bigger city for a better orchestra. But Ken knows this also will bring with it new adventures and new rewards, so he is content to bask in the blessings that come to him at present--especially lots of uninterrupted time playing with little David in the sunshine that pours in through the semi-circular wall of plate windows that overlook their meadows. If all goes as planned, I'll return at the end of my travels this summer to pick-up my newly tuned bassoon. Hopefully, I'll have a picture for you then of the idyllic life he's living.

My brief visit to Ken was followed by a week in Londonistan. I was stunned by how many women there were dressed in black burkas, seen almost everywhere in the capital city of the British Commonwealth. The only uniform more prevalent were those of the redcoats-- though unintended, I arrived just in time for the Queen of England's Diamond Jubilee, a four-day holiday celebrating her 60th year as Queen. Only one other English monarch has reigned so long, Queen Victoria, so large-scale celebrations seldom seen were in order. Last-minute re-arrangements in my lodging led me to stay with my Dad's former Intervarsity colleague, Barbara Barron, and her international student ministry expert and enthusiast husband, Alasdair. Though Barbara is an American citizen, she is married into the Commonwealth, and is as loyal a subject of the Queen if ever there was one. Barbara is quick to point out how public the Queen is about her faith. Though the highlight of the celebrations for me was the military cavalry and band procession with the royal family in tow, for which we woke up at the crack of dawn to get a front row view, the Queen's decision always to celebrate her droit du Dieu with worship of Christ is also remarkable. As part of the celebrations she has given away something like a million copies of the Bible, in the hopes of leading England back her One True Lord and Sovereign King.

Other highlights included a visit to St Mark's Church in Finsbury Park for Sunday worship. My friend Jane played cello as part of the worship team, pastor Stu gave an excellent evangelistic exposition of Isaiah 6:1-9, and I made fast friends with a Sri Lankan member of the congregation who went to great efforts to persuade me that the game of cricket is actually like the Gospel. I was delighted to hear Stu say in his sermon something I've been hearing more in my own church recently, that knowing lots about God is not the same thing as knowing God. Stu went on to recommend Packer's book by that name, as it is his favorite book only after the Bible. He felt affirmed when I told him later that I had actually brought this book with me to read on my trip. My church is actually asking all its congregants to read the book this year.

Following my week in England, I made my way back to Scandinavia to visit old friends and investigate a little further whether I should think more seriously about returning there eventually for ministry. After a few long delays, I arrived into Malmö at 2 AM on Saturday. As i exited the station, there before me was a fashionably dressed man staggering to keep his balance while relieving his stomach, surely after a night of binging on cheap alcohol in Denmark. This is a picture in miniature of the spiritual darkness that hangs over Scandinavia. Cool and fashionable in appearance, but alone and twisted on the inside. A friend in Bergen yesterday reminded me of a comment I made to him long ago which I had long forgotten but which has stuck with him: though bemoaned by many, the excessive rain in Bergen is actually something to be thankful to God for because it washes the streets and sidewalks so we don't have to watch our steps so carefully.

My friend Kristina Furbacken graciously stayed up to get me from the train station even with all the delays. She and her husband Janeric took special care of me when I lived in Malmö, showing exceptional hospitality to me and concern for my needs as I struggled with work as a bassoonist in Sweden. It has been four years already since Janeric took me to the train station and said good bye, encouraging me to look toward the future and not to look back, as I was then leaving Sweden with no job to return to and my confidence badly shaken. Little did I know at the time that the rest of the world would also be reeling with similar shocks only a few months later when the housing bubble would finally burst. A Christian family of entrepreneurs, artists and musicians, the Furbackens have much in common with me.

After staying a few days with the Furbackens, my friends Anna and Andreas Giger invited me to stay another few days with them and their 18 month-old son Aron. Andreas was my roommate five years ago, and after finishing Bible school he has become the youth pastor for our church in Malmö. A like-minded thinker theologically, we had a good time watching Aron and talking shop while Anna was away at work.

My time in Malmö afforded me the chance to meet many other old friends from church as well. Dinu, a musician also, informed me that my boss who had unlawfully denied me tenure five years ago had actually gotten fired himself not long after I left-- a rare thing in Sweden's socialist system which virtually guarantees job security. An answer to prayer since he was doing so
much harm. I was also able to minister to an oboist friend of Dinu's who was visiting for an audition and was feeling miserable after failing to win yet another audition, now his 52nd. He in turn passed on some valuable tips to me about reedmaking and reedknife sharpening! Good oboists are fanatical about that stuff.

My beautiful and charming Indian-Swedish friends, sisters Madeleine and Priyanka, also made a special effort to see me. When I was alone in Sweden for Christmas four years ago, they welcomed me to their family celebrations for a few days. Madeleine has finally found a vocation she is surprised to enjoy as a surgical nurse-in-training, and she is still funny-as-ever, a great storyteller and comic impersonator. Priyanka is also sharp. She knows what she believes and is warm hearted but not afraid to argue her viewpoint. Needless to say, conversation with these ladies is never boring!

From Sweden I boarded a Norwegian Airlines flight to Bergen. The picture on the jet's tail is indicative of how loved the musical arts are in Norway. Ole Bull is famous as a Norwegian violin virtuoso from the turn of the last century.

Arriving in Bergen, I was greeted with the midnight sun and the sunny face of one of my best friends, singer-songwriter Klaus. I stayed with him over the last few days, picking up where we last left off, encouraging one another. It was fun--and great exercise-- for me to walk up Mount Fløyen like I often used to do, and to take a good look over Bergen again from the top. It was such a beautiful, refreshingly cool day. Some gregarious and gamine young women asked me to take their picture on the way up. The beauty of Bergen is a bittersweet experience for me. It is a taste of joy but one which I cannot keep. As C S Lewis wrote, in joy there is a stab of pain because it holds so much longing for more; it is like an echo of the real thing, a refreshing draft from a tributary of the eternal spring where joy endlessly gushes up crisp and pure.

I ran into the former Bergen Orchestra committee chairman at the supermarket. He informed me that the position I was holding temporarily has finally become available. Later that day I surprised my friend Ilene, also from the orchestra, dropping in on her and her partner at their home unannounced. Never one to bridle her enthusiasm, it turned into a big feast, but not after first showing me her new instruments-- a collapsable carbon fiber
Alp horn blows from her porch to startle passers-by, and a terrific Steinway grand piano from 1917 which she found on the Internet for the ridiculously low price of $6,000. She really wants me to come back to Bergen and audition for the orchestra.

On Sunday, yesterday, I went to Salem Church in the morning and Bergen International Church in the afternoon, as was my custom when i lived in Bergen. At Salem I met several old friends and happened to sit next to the chair of the church board. When I told him I was considering coming back to Scandinavia to do ministry, possibly even to play with the orchestra in Bergen, he became very interested. Because the church is growing it needs to think about having a music pastor, someone who can utilize and oversee the musical skills and talent that exist in the church body, while at the same time shepherding them spiritually. He wants to think this over as it is all hitting him so fresh, and I told him I would be praying about it as well.

The last three days have brought me to Israel finally. I arrived in Tel Aviv, a modern city on the coast much like Miami Beach. The next day we looked around Joppa, Caesarea, Mt Carmel, the Jezreel Valley, and the cliff where an angry mob in Nazareth tried to push Jesus over. (See me standing near the edge.) Today we drove around the Sea of Galilee, visited the ruins of Hazor, Dan, and Bethsaida(?), while also driving near the Syrian border in the fertile Golan Hills. (Notice the UN encampment and Israeli military fortifications.) It is a tense time for Israel which now faces imminent danger from both north and south, given the possibility of civil war in Egypt, over the election and military dictatorship, and the brutality and threats of Syria (and Iran).

My general impression is that Israel is all much more expansive, dramatic, and lush than I had imagined. It is more earthy, and not so flannelgraph!

Just finished off the day with an evening dunk in the Sea of Galilee. It was warm and green, much like it would be in any lake back home.