Jesus in the Galilee: Now Christianity Makes Sense

  

If ever I had respect for Jesus:

   We visited the Mount of Beatitudes in summer and it must have been 101 degrees outside.  With 80 % humidity it was like walking through glitter putty air.   And Jesus Preached on that hill.   IN the SUN.    With no AIR-CON to look forward to.    NOT even a cool evening breeze to Soothe His brow at end of day.

I can't imagine Jesus even walking up that hill, much less preaching for hours on it.   Without completely dissolving into sweat.   (If I can say that respectfully.)

It's the little things He has done for us that sometimes get you.   If he suffered even that for me, so we could be tight, I can suffer for Him, and go through whatever comes my way, right?   'Cause He loves me.   and He's so worth it!   


Galilee is like California.   

Much Greener.   Much Cleaner.   But it has that air that says, Anything's possible! and Just be yourself!    Relax.  

It's Pink oleander and pampus grass.   I could be up at Lake Cachuma.   I felt like I could finally breathe up there.   

I had been living in Jerusalem.    I had to remember, Jerusalem was where Jesus went to die, not where He lived. 

So Jesus, from my humble observations, started his life in a place that exuded FREEDOM.   Nature.   High Vistas.    Out-of-Bounds living.   Simple.   Hopeful Expectations.    Whispers on the wind.      ,,,Legendary... 


When I first came to Israel, I volunteered in the hill country of Judea.   A few months later, I was in the heart of Jerusalem.  

I walked on the streets of the Old City, down the Via Dolorosa and climbed to the top of the Mt. of Olives.  I was searching for an understanding of God.    But it wasn't until we were driving along the shores of the Sea of Galilee that I understood how special Jesus was in the light of His message.


In His day, He was a religious anomaly.    He kept the law but talked about doing only what He saw the Father do.  He upheld the law but also re-defined it's values.    He healed on the Sabbath and forgave adulteress women with a Go and sin no more.     He stood up for the weak and poor--and everyone's favorite--denounced Pharisee hypocrisy.  

Jerusalem is hard white stone and Galilee, bushing brambles and the lush greenery.   I was looked for Jesus' deeper message in the capital--the city of government and religious tradition.   But I found it in the area of his hometown.    The place of his roots.      

Nazareth in the Galilee is an area that reflects Freedom and Life. It's the most poignant backdrop for  an introduction of the New Covenant.    The Covenant that reflects the Love and Forgiveness of Elohim,   The Father.   I can only imagine Jesus's excitement as He saw His Father's plan unfold.

 It would now be meeting God as you walked on the water through wind and waves.    It would be multiplicity of provision--free food!    It would be POWER!   Over sickness and death and Hell and heartache! 

 It has begun.   He must have thought with the future in His eye.    Let's bring it!   

 

My Arab Dentist Adventure: On the way Home...

Part III

Looking deeper into the history and current status of Abu Ghosh, I just found out that it holds the Guinness Book of World Records (2010) for the biggest! plate of hummus.   Another interesting item is, the mayor’s name is Salim Jaber.   Could this be a relative of my Dr. Jaber? Is that why he is so amazing and efficient?  He is related to the mayor?   

Given the Jabers' work ethic, that would be likely.  
If  the Middle East had an ‘Angie’s List’ I would leave a raving review.  

 I also found out that Abu Ghosh is one of the oldest cities in the region. It is closely related to the city of Emmaus and was one of the gate-keeper cities for pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem. 

They have one of the oldest and most well-preserved Crusader churches on its hill. It looks like something out of the Acropolis. Across from it, there stands a statue that looks like an angel that can be seen 20 miles away from Jerusalem.

 Upon closer inspection, it is only Mary holding the infant Jesus, but you would never know from that distance.   (If it didn't look like an angel--which all three main religions in the area have in common--it might have been cracked down years ago.)

A Statue on the church of of Mary holding the baby Jesus

The statue from a little further away.

The Statue - from Jerusalem - 20 miles away.
(It's the diagonal white line in the center on the hilltop's horizon-line.
It must be a miracle to be seen  from so far away when it's only 90? ft high.)

The statue belongs to this convent honoring the site where the Ark of the Covenant rested for 20 years before David got to bring it to the temple. I happened upon this place on my way back home from the Abu Ghosh.

Elated at the success of my visit to a foreign dentist and for not being kidnapped on my first walk in an Arab city alone, I decided to explore whatever was in my path. 


On my way up the side of the hill, I practiced my Hebrew, observed a tallit-wearing Hassidic Jew with glasses in shorts and sneakers bring in boxfuls of food into a MOSQUE! ran into one of the natives that I worked with and hit upon the famed temporary resting place of the Ark of the Covenant.

This was the hill of the house of Abinadab--the place the Ark stayed for 20 years when the Philistines got so troubled by it but before it went to the household that got all blessed for 3 months by it, when David came dancing it into Jerusalem (and had to leave it there because someone got struck all dead by trying to steady it)

This day--this special day--was also when I came across a sign advertising a certain kibbutz I was keeping an eye out for.  Why was I looking for a this kibbutz, you ask?   


In 1969 when my mother was young and single, she came to volunteer in Israel at a kibbutz as I am doing now.    I just found out I am only 5 miles away from where she had her life-changing Israel encounter.

 

I couldn't believe I had been living within eye shot of this place.  I had been at Yad Hashmona for three months before I even knew this was here.    On this one day I got to see four major things on my Israeli bucket list.   This memorable day.  When a broken tooth, turned tragedy into triumph, and let me experience going to an Arab Dentist in Israel.

My Arab Dentist Adventure: Dr. Jaber

Part II

 

Twelve sets of eyes greeted me. Most of them were Arabic, but two were fair-skinned representatives and two looked like they were from a hippy establishment.  

All were seated in a clean, quiet, air-conditioned waiting room.   It was modern.   On the far side of the wall was a small aquarium.    If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought I was back in the States.

Trying to find the admitting window was another thing. I walked here and there,  hoping my confusion would raise a little aid.   I finally asked someone, a kibbutznik I would talk to later. She told me to give my name to the wife, who just happened to come out at that moment.


I rushed to her in my eagerness to get on the list, practically knocking her over. I didn't want to get left behind due to a 'misunderstanding'.


It was the only complaint of the auburn-haired, tie-die wearing, yoga teacher.    She was a member of a kibbutz and had taken her children to Dr. Jaber since they were small. 

"First come first serve,"  she said. It meant you could look forward to a 4-hour wait sometimes.   "He is so good. Why couldn't he just include appointments into his system?'

2 hours later - In the Dentist Office Waiting Room

Dr. Jaber’s wife was the main administrator. Silent as the grave and fore-boding in her black burka she glided in and out of the main room with a faint smile. 

I waited for about two hours before my name was called. Seven patients later, I got to go down that mysterious hallway behind the fish tank.    The well put-together waiting room had served its purpose. I was significantly anxious and relaxed before I would go 'under'. 


What came next really made me smile!

When I walked into the dental office, the dentist chair was pink.   The walls were painted a sunny Italian, stucco-yellow and there were pictures of Tuscany hanging here and there.   

Everything was thoroughly modern. A crystal chandelier even rounded-out the ambiance with a window opening to a green yard in the back. 

Pink Dentist Chair with matching rinse bowl

A piece of Italy in his office

Before I knew it, there was the man himself. Dr. Jabar.    (you will just have to imagine a kind, be-speckled man, a little shorter in stature with a 'busy-bee' mode of operandi.   

 I was expecting a much older fellow.    Our banquet hall manager--who already looked 45-50, said this Dr. Jaber was his uncle.   However, this being Muslimland, siblings from 2-4 mothers, could create an assortment of age-levels in brothers and sisters. Nephews and uncles could be similar ages. 

Dr. Jaber's nephew, our banquet hall manager, was one of the hardest working, on-his-toes, on-the-ball, staff members I have ever seen. Always busy, always moving.  It always felt like the  apocalypse was just around the corner.   At only 5’ tall, and muscular, with his "Come, come! Eat, eat!"   he reminded me of an Arabic hospitality bee.

Sufi was one of the most accommodating staff members with which the volunteers would interact. (We only saw Yad Hashmona staff at meals. This made every interaction impacting.   Sometimes good, sometimes bad.   


Sometimes we felt like an imposition—an after-thought. ‘Oh, you need to eat?'   We have to feed the volunteers too?  On top of all our duties, we need to make sure these extras have a hot meal?’ 

I heard from one volunteer, that when the college students (of an IBEX  theology program hosted at Yad Hash) went home, the kitchen pretty much just served hot dogs—with a side of rice.    Not too cool, Y8.    


(To note:   I couldn't really whole-heartedly recommend their volunteer program.    Mainly because, we hardly got to spend any time with native Israeli's.  Secondly, because it seemed like we were an after-thought.) 


 Nobody wants to feel like an after-thought when you're working really hard to bless a place and a nation that you have prayed for so much, spent your own money to get there and live on, workin housekeeping through rain or shine and in winter it is dark and cold as soon as you get off, and nobody seems to care.)  


You work alongside of some of the most amazing people though.  They are from all different countries and backgrounds.   But you wish your host organization knew how this experience would reflect on your experience in Israel.     You want to have only high thoughts towards the country  you are visiting and love everything about it.     


There were many kind strangers.     I just don't think that many people knew about our situation.    How alone you can feel when you are in a new place and dependent on someone else for your basic needs--at least in the beginning.   There is alot more to say on this whole topic.    



There was one young Israeli man who lived on the kibbutz that everyone loved!    He was made the new volunteer coordinator sometime later.     He hung out with the volunteers, went to a fellowship in Jerusalem and they all did alot of activities together.  They got to discover Israel through a real Isreali....    A great fit.     Poor guy, I bet every one of the girls is in-love with him by the end of their time there.  


Thus, when ‘Sufi's, ‘Welcome! Welcome!’    filled the air, it was such a relief!    We were there at the right time and there was food to eat.    To be welcomed to dinner.    What a pleasant surprise.   You see, sometimes there was a bar mitzvah or a wedding or a company appreciation dinner going on in the banquet hall where we ate and we would be hurried out or told to come a little later or 'why didn't you come earlier!?'   (Yes, these were some of the crazy things we worked through while vol-ing at Yad Hashmona. (Food was a big one along with visas and volunteer trips, etc. .....)

Friday Brunch in The Banquet Hall of Yad Hashmona
(Their brunch could be on a Come See Israel! advertisement)

ANYWAY.     ...Meanwhile, back in the dentist’s office, what amazed me more than the good fortune of knowing a manager related to a dentist in the Holy Land, was how this relative was the DENTIST VERSION of my favorite banquet manager. Efficient, hospitable, moving in 4 directions at once with total ease, they were mirror images of each other in their respective professions.

One of the first things Dr. Jaber did was welcome me to Israel and ask me if I liked it here. I did.  (Aside from some Yad hash let-down, I was really happy to be in Israel.)  



The Arabic music in the background was soothing. He even would have changed it if I favored another style, but I wanted to breathe in all of this cultural exchange.



He then asked about my tooth. He took a look at my broken molar and within seconds got to work. He could have done the whole job without Novocain, but because of my nerves I must have had some. 

Do we have nitrous oxide outlets in the US?

It couldn't have been 30 minutes later and he was all done.   He had created half a new tooth for the part that had come off.     He even filled in a filling next to it (at no cost!) to match the tooth next to it.    Our conversation gave me a  quick glimpse into life as an Arab-Israeli culture as well.    

 He did all this with complete confidence—not causing me any undo pain or discomfort and gave me an amazing discount as a volunteer.   ( some volunteering has benefits.   :]    )



What a professional. After wishing me well, he was off!  working on the cavities of a patient next door before his chair even stopped spinning.

He must have treated 60 people in one day. No problem. He told me to talk to his wife (when I finished rinsing and spitting)  as she would take care of my bill.


I didn't have that many shekels with me.    I hoped it  would be enough.    After checking with her husband, his secretive-smile secretary and wife handed me a copy of the bill--400 shekels! That is equivalent to $100 American dollars!    An un-heard of price in any country!   


I couldn't believe it!    It was a gift.      Dr. Jaber, the banquet manager’s uncle, had really helped me out.    And the Big Guy had really taken care of me.   It was all the money I had with me too.   An amazing discount for a shekel-strapped volunteer.


I wish I could have hugged him.    As it was, I didn't even get to give him a last thank you.    I had some candy with me so I gave it to his daughter's children sitting in a car outside. 



But you can bet that the next time I am in Israel, I am going to make a special trip to bring him the best delicacy that Portland, Oregon, has to offer. I love Dr. Jaber.   My Arab Dentist.

My view from the dentist chair - His chair (unseen) is still spinning to the right

       A Side Note:

Mid-way through the dental process—probably while waiting for a composite to solidify--he mentioned how the Arabs and Jews in this land were friends.   There is all this media talking about the fighting and the conflicts, but Arabs and Jews have lived together in peace for many years right in the same neighborhoods.    For all the media frenzy about Palestine and Israel, there is so much camaraderie and dwelling together-ness.  



The reality of living in the Middle East is buying your bread from the Jewish guy on the corner when it's Friday, and you're Arab, and going to Farid's coffee shop on Saturday when you're Jewish, celebrating Shabbos, and all the Jewish shops are closed.    Celebrating each other's weddings, grieving at each others' funerals, sharing sorrows and joys--and life in humid weather and high gas prices...   



They are two halves of the same coin. Cousins, brothers. Sons of the same Father.   Abraham.

My Arab Dentist Adventure: Walking the the Crescent, Abu Ghosh

      Of all things, I broke off half my tooth one night while I was in Israel.   Now I had to go to the dentist.  I'm in a foreign land, have limited resources and a pressing medical issue. Nightmares of decay and infected root systems danced in my head. I would have to bite the bullet and just take care of this thing.  Before it ended my life!    :]

Abu Ghosh Main Shopping Street

The Judean Hillside

I talked to my volunteer coordinator and she offered up a dentist.  But someone within earshot mentioned that a relative of the banquet hall manager, 'Sufi', was a dentist. 


 Sufi was kind enough to call up his uncle and ask if I could see him.   He even searched for the word ‘discount’ when telling me to come the next day. 




Sufi, the daytime manager, was an Arab. We hadn't had much interaction with the banquet hall staff, because as girls, we weren't encouraged to fraternize with Arab men.   And pretty much all the banquet staff, were Arab men.   Now, it should be said, that Arab men in the Middle East--well, all men in the Middle East--are kind of 'Middle Eastern men'.    If you know what I mean.   There is just a different set of cultural ques and stuff that we western girls don't know about.  Unseen trip-wires.   So to not stumble on any of these, the rule of thumb is just non-association.    It's for everyone's best interests.   One of my friends said it:  'Why do they have to be so tan!    And in such good shape.'


But I needed to see a dentist.   And if he was related to Sufi, I would have to break the silence and talk to an Arab man.          

Thus begins my adventure of seeing an Arabian dentist in Israel.

The Manager’s uncle was called Dr. Jaber (Jah-bear) and was thankfully located close by, in the town next to us, Abu Ghosh. 


Now Abu Ghosh wasn't just any ol’ Arab town. Everyone who talked about it said that it was 'special'. It was a town made up of Arabs that supported Zionists even in the time of the British occupation.   So, these were Arab-Israelis citizens.   

These Arabs fought alongside their Jewish neighbors during the war for Independence.    They saw what was coming and decided to join ranks with their neighbors when Israel was just a baby nation and was attacked by 7 other nations. 


In the following years, these neighbors were so neighborly, they even worked out their differences. Here is a little story.

A very sweet ice cream shop in Abu Ghosh.

Once upon a time in Abu Ghosh, there was a time when hard feelings developed between the Arabs and the Jews.

Neighbors were fighting with neighbors, some were even throwing rocks. 

One day, the Arabs went to a Jewish rabbi and said they didn’t want to fight with their Jewish neighbors. What should they do? 

The rabbi, very wise, said, “Bring flowers to your Jewish neighbors on Shabbat (Friday). That will solve the problem.”

Well, the Arab neighbors did this, and it helped.

Whatever happened, people stopped throwing rocks and Arabs started being invited to their Jewish neighbors for Shabbat dinner.  What a commitment to community. 

The resulting unity in Abu Ghosh is precious in sometimes tension-filled Israel. 



      This expedition was so extraordinary because I hadn't gone outside the safe walls of the Yad Hashmona compound/kibbutz alone except to catch a bus with other people to other safe places.  The city of Jerusalem, The Dead Sea, other tourist attractions.   But not my own neighborhood.    


(The second week I was in Israel, 2 lady hikers were knifed on a nearby trail 20 minutes away by two Arab men. The reason for that action was never known.)  From our Judean hilltop, we would hear coyote cries and laughing hyenas howl at night. We heard stories of Arabs in the surrounding countryside stealing goats and smaller lifestock from the Yad Hashmona Biblical Museum at one time.

A clear day.

I took the first steps toward the hill’s edge of Abu Ghosh with no small amount of trepidation. You would think I wouldn't have done it, but I was so excited to have an excuse to leave the ‘island’.  


If some terrorist attack happened I would have had a reason to be arriving in heaven early. 'It was either me or my tooth,' I would tell St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. 


I practically floated to my dental destination.  Taking pictures, breathing in Arabic sounds, trying to catch the scent of the air in my memory... 

I was so happy to be out and about.   I tried to just smile with my eyes, hidden behind my hounds-tooth captain's hat.   (Hey tourist!  we know its you!)   I remembered to be careful and tried not look anyone in the eye.   

You see, Middle Eastern males seem to interpret this as, ‘You are HAPPY to see ME!’ and that starts all sorts of distractions and explanations and so on.

A picture to memorialize the day.

            Like a crescent moon, Abu Ghosh is settled on the curve of a hillside. I walked its length through a relatively empty city. ]


The sky was blue, not a cloud in sight.  Calm and serene were the city limits. A perfect day.


I passed white stone walled homes with black wrought iron fences. Girls playing in yards below asked me if I was married. “Not yet…” I said,  perfectly the opposite of non-plused by such a  reasonable question.

The longer I walked, the more worry rose in my heart that I would miss the dentist's office and wander for hours through the maze of little city.

Mid-crescent

Dropping the 'no-eyes' rule, I asked stranger after stranger if I was going the right way.   "Dr. Jaber’s, " I would say, and they would nod and look up the hill. One man pointed to a sign. I couldn't tell because of the Arabic, but because he took the time to point emphatically, I double-backed and went through its gate.   I was rewarded finally by a lush courtyard and title in English on a ceramic tile outside the door. 

 'Dr. Jaber'  it said and when I opened the door....  

In a courtyard outside of the dentist office.

Along the Courtyard

For More Arab Dentist Adventures Read Part II - My Arab Dentist Adventure: Dr. Jaber