Israel Day 3 – Wednesday – The Desert

The discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls in 1947 changed the study of Jewish and Christian religion more than anything in 1000 years, and they were found in the West Bank, a mile inland from the Dead Sea, near the Qumran archeological site.  This was our first destination Wednesday.  In 1947, when a shepherd boy crept into a cave that held ceramic cylinders and, disappointed they only held paper, supposedly used one to patch a hole in his shoe – the world of archeology descended on the area to discover 11 caves surrounding the Qumran settlement holding 900 scrolls. Extensive digs since have discovered writings from an apocalyptic Jewish sect that lived around 134 BCE, possibly until 68 CE, and who wrote down almost everything – probably due to their belief that the end of the world was near. The scrolls hold the entire Hebrew Bible (or Old Testament) and additional texts that were likely left out of the canon. (Everything survives in the desert).  The scrolls also teach us that they were an all-male community that engaged in ritual bathing prior to every meal.  

Even in the midst of this extremely wet winter for Israel/Palestine, standing in the middle of the Qumran archeological dig, all you see is rocky desert and the Dead Sea (which is undrinkable).  Which leads one to ask, how in the world did people live, let alone do ritual daily bathing in this place?  And here is where I become amazed at the human ability to survive. 

Looking up the slope from where the water flows

The Dead Sea is the lowest point on earth, 420 meters (almost 1400 feet) below sea level.  The Qumran site is about 100 miles inland from the Dead Sea, between the mountains and the lake.  (It’s not actually a Sea, nor is it Dead, as our guide Jared liked to say – it only has microscopic life).  During the rainy season in Israel/Palestine, water comes cascading over and through the limestone cliffs and mountains on its way to the lowest point on earth.  Knowing this, the Qumran realized they simply needed a way to collect and store enough water to get through the year.  So first they dug huge cisterns in the earth to hold the water.  Then, they built desert canals to channel the water directly from the mountain into their cisterns.  It’s a natural technological innovation that blows my mind.    

Cisterns at Qumran that caught the water

Water, their most precious resource, must have also become plentiful enough to bathe in regularly.  (Of course, this means wading into a ritual bath, rather than fill, drain and refill a bathtub as we would.)  It makes sense that it would take on a sacred, central role in their community, just as most cultures lift up that which is most scarce (Gold, anyone?).  The tourist video at Qumran tried to make a connection between the practices of this Jewish sect and the newfound practice introduced by John the Baptist.  However, of this, there is no proof.

Leaving Qumran and heading south in the desert, we were invited to climb a fortress into the sky.  (I’m still happy I wimped out and took the cable car.)  We were at Masada, a symbol for Jewish heroism and a frequent pilgrimage of Jewish youth groups from all across Israel.

A little history (aka let’s see if I can get this right): approximately 200 years before Christ, the Jews in Judea were living under rule one of the (oppressive) Hellenistic Empires.  In 167 BCE, the Maccabees revolted and won independence over Jerusalem, which lasted for about 25 years. During that time, the rulers (otherwise called the Hasmonean Dynasty) recognized the continued threat of the Hellenistic Empire and it’s enemies.  They needed a plan in case of a future attack.  Where would be the best place for a resourceful ruling family to escape to in order to safeguard their lineage?  To the desert, of course.  They looked for a location approximately one day’s journey from Jerusalem where they could hide and marshal themselves to return and regain their city.  They found Masada, which literally means ‘fortress’ - a lone mountain in the desert.  The Hasmoneans built a refuge and a path up the mountain, and stored enough wares there to supply them in time of need. Over 100 years later, as warring empires were collapsing to the Romans, Herod the Great (and he was a great political strategist) sold out the Hasmonean dynasty and managed to secure governorship over Judea as a client-state of Rome.  Knowing about the fortress, Herod had the same idea – only it had to be done in Herodian style.  He returned to Masada (doubtless with thousands of slaves) and built an entire city upon the mountain, complete with two palaces, agricultural space, Roman bath houses, and a system to manipulate and collect water.  And this is the best part; just like the Qumran, Herod recognized the flow of water off the other mountains, and built a canal directing the water flow into hollowed out cisterns half way up Masada.  This way, should he ever be attacked, no one living on Masada would have to leave the mountain to get water.  It was virtually impenetrable.  (The construction of at least one of the palaces is thought to be for intimidation, as it literally hung off the cliff of the mountain facing Jerusalem and would denote the majestic power of it’s inhabitants.  But there’s no explanation for why Herod needed a second palace, or a bathhouse for that matter.  But that’s the Herodian style – grand excess).

Model of Herod's Palace that faced Jerusalem

The visible squares are actually remains of the rock walls of the Roman siege

By mid-first century (60ish CE), unrest was growing for the Jews in Jerusalem.  They would soon revolt against the Roman Empire, the Romans would burn the temple to the ground, and many Jewish sects decided to leave Jerusalem while they still could.  One sect took up residence at the top of Masada, and lived there until 73 CE when the Roman army was intent on stamping out all the Jewish people of the land.  The Roman army arrived at Masada, probably with 5000 slaves and soldiers, and set up a ring and several encampments at the base of the mountain, which can still be seen today.  (Like I said, everything survives in the desert!)  After probably months of waiting, the Romans realized that those on top of Masada were not coming down, but they couldn’t fight a battle upwards.  So they set about building a ramp and a huge battering ram that would bust the entrance of Masada.  After weeks of preparation, they pushed a huge structure up a huge hill and succeeded in breeching the door in the middle of the night, but Masada’s inhabitants had set fire and the Roman army fled their wooden contraption to safety, content that they would enter the premises in the morning and take the population as slaves.  When they charged in the morning, however, according to Josephus Flavius in his account of The Jewish Wars, all they found were the remains of mass suicide.  Legend has it that Masada’s community leaders gave a speech asking if the men of the community would rather have their women and children dead, or abused as slaves to the Romans.  The decision must have been unanimous – men left the circle to give their families a fatal last hug, and then returned to complete the mission by killing eachother.  The last man had to fall on his own sword.

The Roman-built ramp up the side of Masada

There is discrepancy between the account given by Josephus Flavius and archeological finds; there were in fact scrolls and evidence of Jewish life found on Masada.  There weren’t, however, enough skeletons found either on Masada or at the foot of the mountain (if the Romans would have thrown them over the wall as was their custom) to validate the tale of Josephus.

The legend of Masada has, however, taken on a life of it’s own, as a tribute to Jewish bravery and resistance as has become important in the modern age (more on this later).  In addition to youth trips, for decades the Israeli army held their graduation ceremonies atop Masada.  The small number of bodily remains that were found at Masada were exhumed and carried into Jerusalem for burial in a military-style parade.  This practice has stopped in recent years, perhaps as Israeli society begins to look more critically at the nobility of self-sacrifice as bravery.  But it has provided a beacon of Jewish history for the newborn state.

From desert to water, we went north to the Ein Gedi Nature Preserve.  Biblical scholars believe here is where David hid from King Saul’s hunt for him. (1 Samuel 24). But as God would have it, (so says scripture), King Saul stepped into the cave where David was hiding with his men to relieve himself.  David, unnoticed, cut off some of his robe, but declined to let his men attack.  As Saul left the cave, David proved to Saul that he could have taken his life, but that he did not because he is loyal.  And with this, King Saul ceased his hunt for David. 

The Ein Gedi is a beautiful, bouldered cliffside made of limestone.  Here, too, water runs through and down the rock, but it is a constant flow.  We hiked into the park, toward the source of the waterfall, learning about the Acacia tree, specifically adapted with low branches and tiny leaves for desert weather, it’s predator the hyrax (resembling a cross between a ferret and a opossum, but apparently closest related genealogically to the elephant) and the amazing mountain goat called Ibex. 

Our final destination was to test the salt in the Dead Sea.  The Dead Sea marks the border between Jordan and Israel, but it is actually shrinking year by year. (The media campaign slogan is, “Is the Dead Sea dying?”)  The mining industry, interested in the wealth of minerals below the sea, drains portions to speed evaporation.  This industry utilized by both Israel and Jordan. (In fact, Israel’s treaty with Jordan included an agreement to share technology to allow Jordan to start an industry).  Jared suggested that we would find wounds on our bodies that we didn’t know were there once submerged in the salty water, and had even advised us against shaving (anything) 24 hours beforehand.  The buoyancy of the Dead Sea is somewhat astounding – it takes an act of will to push your feet into the water and stay in an upright position. But you best keep your mouth, eyes and ears closed – the salt is no joke.  As we emerged from the water, salt that had splashed onto our faces dried in white splotches across our cheeks, and clothing that soaked up the salt became crusty and stiff.

…

Reflection: Water

Jerusalem sits on a ridge at the crux of two valleys.  Although I’ve learned this in my CTS classes on Hebrew bible, I doubt it ever stuck by looking at a map.  It is situated on a mountain ridge – a very defensible position with a clear view of any approaching enemy from the east, south or west.  And – one last crucial determinant – it sits near a natural spring.

Water in the desert.  The determining factor in all human affairs; do we have access to water?  Can we rely on it, manipulate it, grow from it?  Can we protect it? (And these days, can we preserve it?) Will we be attacked for it – or will it be used against us in a siege?  In our first days in Jerusalem, the role of water became clear.  Jerusalem was likely founded because of it.  The Ancient Hebrew King Hezekiah spent years crafting a tunnel to protect access to it.  The people at Qumran bathed in it for ritual cleansing before every meal – and devised ways to catch and store it in the desert.  King Herod manipulated that technology to divert it to his mountain fortress, capturing it before it became useless in the Dead Sea.

Water means life.  Water gives life and supports life. Is it any surprise it became integrated with primal importance into our religions?  Water can also take away life.  Water absolves, and water dissolves.  Water leeches the material of whatever it collects.  In the Dead Sea, at the bottom of a desert valley 400 meters below sea level – the lowest place on earth the heavy rains come cascading down and through the limestone mountains and eventually rest on a huge mineral deposit.  From this location, there is nowhere for the water to go.  So it leeches and becomes saturated with the salt that all but prevents life, except that of tiny microorganisms. 

Today I heard about water that was at the beginning – a story from Samuel about King Saul, in his hunt to kill the future King David, coming to the Ein Gedi Oasis (water in a desert) and stumbling upon David and his men in a cave. As we hiked up the Ein Gedi boulders and ridges, and watched the fresh water bleed out of limestone rocks and cascade down cliffs, I know why David was hiding in these caves.  And as I submerged half my body in a basin to touch the source of the waterfall in the Gedi – the beginning – I thought about how this water would be corralled, diverted, collected and manipulated to support so many of the Jewish ancestors and desert peoples.  Knowing this water, just like that which flowed in King Hezekiah’s tunnel dug under the old city of Jerusalem to sustain the people in wartime, and that which flowed into the Masada Mountain Fortress for King Herod – was flowing in exactly the same way it did 3000 years ago gave me the connection that transcended space and time. 

Water from the beginning of my religious history.  Water at the end. Later, while floating buoyantly in the Dead Sea with most of my classmates, I thought about how this body of water marks the end of water’s journey in the Judean desert. The Desert peoples had to seize the water before it became useless – and salty – by joining the Dead Sea.  On humans, salt burns, and salt heals.  But it signifies the end of sustaining human life. Stranded in the desert, this body of water might seem like the answer, but in fact would be a curse.  Water at the end of its journey.  In the same day, we had journeyed from the place where water gave life to our people, to the place where it could take it away.