Day Eight: The Holocaust Museum & Final Thoughts on Israel

We have come to the last day of our time in Israel.  Sigh.

On the last day of the official tour, we were given a few options of how to spend our day.  With people flying out at different times, the schedule was flexible, and buses were making various stops at shopping destinations around the city.

Another option for the day was the Holocaust Museum, called Yad Vashem, which comes from Isaiah 56:5:
"and to them will I give in my house and within my walls a memorial and a name (a "yad vashem")...that shall not be cut off."

For the first time in our traveling history, it was actually very difficult for me to find souvenirs that really captured the significance of the time we spent in Israel.  So, although I did pick up a couple of things along the way, we knew this last day was supposed to be yet another day of learning for us.

Mark and I had not visited a Holocaust Museum before, although I have heard great things about the one in D.C. and even Dallas.

We don't have many pictures to share from this day, because it wasn't a place for pictures (except for this fantastic view over the mountainside that served as the peaceful backdrop for this museum).

I do, however, have pictures in my mind.  And, they will be forever etched there.

Yad Vashem is designed as a winding path through the complicated story of the Holocaust---and as you wander from room to room, seemingly with no end, you absolutely feel the weight of this journey through time.  You feel the endlessness of this disaster, the burden and consequences of a tragedy of this magnitude, and the nausea of meeting evil this up-close and personal.

Similar to my first time in the Genocide Memorial in Rwanda, this visit served as a place to learn about the historical facts, that until now, had been fragmented and incomplete for me.  There was so much I didn't know.  There is still so much I don't know.  And, that makes me sad.  There is simply no excuse for that to be true.

But a sense of history wasn't all I got from this day.

I felt as if I was sitting at a table, as men, women, and children took their turn sitting across from me, sharing their stories.

I met people of all nationalities and backgrounds---some who died, some who fought, some who simply did what they could to survive a few extra days in concentration camps.

I met survivors, who told their stories through tears, sharing about their families, their friends, their nightmares, and their miracles.

I met children...such tiny children, who experienced such horrors, incomprehensible to my Mommy heart and brain.

I met heroes from every country---non-Jewish men and women, who---whether they were eighteen or fifty-eight---saw the atrocities around them and refused to bow.  Instead, they laid down their lives to save the lives of their friends, neighbors, and even strangers.

I met women who marched for miles as the annhilation ended, only to die after they gained their freedom because they were so sick and frail and tired.

As each one shared their story, the question repeated in my mind, "What if this had been me?  What would I have done?  What would our family's story have been?"

For many reasons, I don't want to leave this eight-part Israel blog this way.  It feels so dark and dreary, after our many days spent in this beautiful country.

But, at the exact same time, this is exactly how it should end.  Because it has woken me up from my American slumber, and left me wanting more.

I want more information.
More understanding.
More awareness.
More appreciation.
More action.
More heart change.

I want to be changed because of what I experienced and learned in Israel, and what God began showing me even before this trip.

My journey of truly understanding the Jewish faith, history, and legacy began two years ago, as we began to celebrate the Biblical feasts in our home, as a part of our homeschool curriculum.

As I began to read and prepare for these family celebrations, I was deeply moved by what I was reading.  And, I wondered why I had seen these beautiful blessings as simply "Old Testament stuff" that I no longer needed to know.

After celebrating many Jewish traditions and Biblical festivals that year, even my kids have seen so much with new eyes.  Since that time, I have been hungry to know more.  Not just because it's the Word of God, and we should know it intimately.  But, because I believe there are God-sized blessings in these rhythms of life that we, as a modern-day culture, are missing out on.

Sadly, along with gaining knowledge about the Jewish people and the feasts they celebrate, I have also learned about the tragedies that have occurred against them in the name of "Christianity".  (Again, homeschooling has been teaching mom quite a few things over these years!)

This is all I will say.  We as Christians need to know.  We need to know and appreciate Jewish history---because it is also our story.  We need to know the sufferings that have come from anti- semitism.  We need to know the Old Testament, including the Biblical calendar as God created it, and the beautiful feasts and festivals He designed as blessings to His people.  We need to study what all of this means for our families, and what it means to our Lord.

Since we've been home, I've been reading a whole list of books about Israel, the Jewish faith, and the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob...and Jesus.  I can't get enough.  The God of history---and of our world today---has never been more alive to me.  And, at the same time, I have never felt so small and ignorant and self-centered.

My prayer, as I complete this blog-journey back through Israel, is that those who joined me here won't stop here either.  I'm clearly not an expert on anything I've shared.  I'm just a girl who encountered her God in new ways halfway across the world, in a beautiful land, which He promised to His people so long ago.

And, if you didn't know much about Israel before these blogs, I want to leave you with one last thought, because I promised my airport friend I would.

As we walked through the duty-free shop in the airport upon our departure--shopping for olive oil and wine to take back to family--the man who helped us there asked us about our trip.  We told him that we will never be the same after this time in Israel, and that the beauty of this country was far beyond what we had ever imagined.

He had a simple response, "I'm so glad to hear this.  Will you do me one favor?  Will you tell others in your country about what you saw?  Will you tell them it's not just what they see on TV?"

So, that's where I leave this Israel summary.  This country---its people, its history, its God---is beautiful beyond description, and so much richer than many of us know or realize.

May we be a people who honor and cherish the heritage God has given us in the Jewish faith, while we also celebrate the hope and future He has given us in Jesus.  Because from start to finish, it is all one seamless, beautiful story of redemption.

Day Seven: Qumran, Masada, Judean Wilderness, Dead Sea Swim, and En Gedi

Day Seven was just about the time I got really sad about leaving Israel soon.  And, it's funny.  I'm getting sad again as I near the end of recalling this trip on the blog.  (Although I am remembering why I'm not blogging anymore. :)  As happy as I am to have this documented, I am looking forward to gaining back these evening and weekend hours!)

On the seventh day, we headed south. We traveled through the Judean Wilderness, which was again, so desert-like compared to the north.  You may remember,we had traveled through the tip of it on our entry to Jerusalem through the area of Jericho, but we were now experiencing the true expanse of the desert land as it stretches all the way to the southern most boundary of Israel.

As we traveled this new direction, we had the wilderness on our right and the Jordan River on our left.  The Jordan River serves as a natural border between Israel and Jordan, but we could also see the security fences along the way, warning of upcoming country lines.

As we looked across out the left window, we were peering into modern-day Jordan, ancient-day Moab.

We could see the mountains in the distance where the Israelites would have first entered the Promised Land, by way of the Jordan River.  

Which was yet another "ah ha" moment, brought to me by our very own Naftali:

The Israelites entered the Promised Land from a mountain, into a valley at the riverbed.  Their enemies in Jericho and other cities could see them coming and would have picked them off one at a time if they had been defenseless and walking across in a single file line across the Jordan.  Yet, this is what I have always pictured!  (maybe because of Bible pictures like this one.)

Instead, God parted the waters for MILES, all the way from a town called Adam (north of Jericho) down to the Dead Sea, where we were traveling on day seven!

As the water stopped for such a long distance, Naftali shared that they most likely crossed shoulder to shoulder, ready for combat, so that they could not be attacked even as they entered.

This never hit me before!  They were well-trained for the battles ahead, and even in this dry riverbed, God instructed their every move and they followed.  They weren't a weak people, exhausted from years in the desert.  God gave them strength to stand as a military unit and victorious group before they even stepped foot in Jericho.

It's interesting to me how often this happened on this trip.  You would think that the "big" stops would be the places God had lessons He wanted me to know.  There were plenty of those too.  But, instead, it was so often "along the way", in small moments that I wasn't expecting, that He just revealed new truths and made me want to study the Word more diligently.

Another one of those was a quick view, as we were driving, of Mount Nebo in the distance, where Moses was allowed to take a peek into the beautiful, prosperous land he would never step into.  

That has always been a bit of a sad and difficult Bible story for me.  A man who gave his entire life to leading God's people, to guiding them through the hardest years of desert-wandering; seeing their disobedience and disregard for the One True God too many times to count, and fighting for them to be forgiven by the God they forsook.  He was the only man who saw God's face.  He was the man to whom God chose to give the law.  Yet, in his final days, he was the man NOT chosen to lead them into the promises God had for them because of his own disobedience.  This is heartbreaking.  Yet, even in this, Moses glorified His Father and trusted Him completely.   What a humbling thing to remember:  First, that God is a Holy God and His ways are not always our ways.  Second, we can lead a life faithful to God and--from our limited perspective--we may not get all we thought we deserved from doing it.  Not yet, anyway.  But, what an honor Moses ended with, as he was buried by God Himself on Mount Nebo on the last day of his life on earth.

"Since then, no prophet has risen in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face, who did all those signs and wonders the Lord sent him to do in Egypt--to Pharaoh and to all his officials and to his whole land.  For no one has ever shown the mighty power or performed the awesome deeds that Moses did in the sight of Israel."  Deuteronomy 34:10-12

We stopped at the Jordan River one more time, just north of where it joins the Dead Sea.  This is the very area where John the Baptist had his ministry and where he wandered (Matthew 3).  We were able to see the site that is celebrated as Jesus' baptismal spot, although it is now considered to be the territory of Jordan.  The river marks the boundary of the two countries, and the signs were clear:  

Don't cross the river and don't mess with the areas behind the fenceline.  We cheerfully obeyed.

We could actually see the remains of abandoned monasteries and churches, where conflict and fighting over the years made it impossible for monks and priests to defend themselves.  So interestingly, the entire area is now deserted from any kind of active church or even a "touristy" office.   

Quite the change from the busy, sometimes commercialized, sites of Jerusalem.

But, I have to say, even in this deserted place, God did His thing, and showed us this was still His territory.  :)

We were all milling around, standing at the waters' edge, doing our usual sightseeing, pictures, and poses.

Now, you remember I mentioned before how much, especially Mark, has become interested in birds?  Our collection of bird sightings were numerous on this trip, even catching a couple of new ones on this very morning.

So, he is always looking up to the trees anywhere we stop.  And, I'm pretty thankful he was doing that here, because we got a super special bird sighting!

Guess who was just sitting up on a ledge watching us down below?

A white dove.

Are you kidding me?

This is the only white dove we saw on the entire trip.  And, to see it in this very significant place was almost unbelievable.  I nicknamed this little guy "Spirit".  :)

For those who may not know the significance, a bird like this one landed on Jesus as He was baptized and came out of the water right here in this place, showing God's blessing on His son, and representing the Holy Spirit ascending on Jesus.

"Now when all the people were being baptized, Jesus was baptized too.  And as He was praying, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove.  And a voice came from heaven saying "This is my son, whom I love, with him I am well-pleased."(Luke 3:21-22)

I'm not sure what this signified to each person who saw little "Spirit", but for me, it was another way God showed me how real and present He is, as He walks this journey with each of us, revealing Himself to all of us in this land.  I believe He loves delighting us--and surprising us--in the details of His care.  And, seeing that little white bird was just one of those whispers to my heart.  He is with us.  His Spirit is here, surrounding our little group, and He has things He wants for us to know and see.

(Too bad that little birdie didn't just fly on down and sit on our shoulders.  Hee hee.)

The next stop was the area of Qumran, where the Dead Sea Scrolls were discovered in ancient caves, hidden for safe-keeping by the Essenes.  

There are even more caves than the ones we could see, but it was absolutely a treat to get to stand just feet away from these secret places where the word of God was preserved and proven.

The Essenes were a group of very devout Jewish people, who believed that living apart from society was a holier way to devote their lives to God.  They shared everything they had with one another, lived in peace, and worshipped in very specific ways.  We toured the remains of their isolated community, which included many ritual bathing sites...

...as well as the areas where they practiced communal living.

And, where they carried out the tasks of meeting the village's needs.

We could also see the rooms where they copied the scrolls of the Bible that were hidden for over a thousand years in these caves.

As the Romans completed the destruction of Jerusalem, they headed south to rid the land of any remaining Jewish people.  Knowing the scrolls would be in danger of being burned or stolen, the Essenes quickly hid their scrolls in clay jars in the back of caves.

And, aren't we glad they did?

You can read more about what was discovered in those caves HERE.  It included every book of the Bible except Esther, as well as scrolls describing the Essenes' beliefs, rules, and way of life.

We then continued south through more of the Judean Desert, but we no longer had the Jordan River on our left.  Now it was the spectacular Dead Sea!

I had heard the waters appeared turquoise and beautiful, but I really didn't expect the beauty I saw.

And, to think, it is completely uninhabited, too salty to hold any life at all.  

Our next destination was Masada, which was originally used as a fortress for King Herod, built around 31 BC as a sort of winter palace and "place of escape" for he and his immediate family.

That Herod.  He sure didn't skimp on anything that was meant for his pleasure and comfort.  We could see his original frescoed walls of the palace,

his baths and swimming pools,

mosaics of exquisite detail,

and the most amazing cisterns and food storage cellars.

These were amazing because of their location.  As you can see, there's not exactly a grocery market down the cliff and across the valley.

Masada is a natural plateau, high above the surrounding terrain, and is encircled by white limestone cliffs that are truly impenetrable.  This means some slaves had to work really hard to get Herod his water supply. And, I can't even imagine how he got years and years worth of food up there.

The only way up was a trail called "the snake trail", which you can still see today.  In fact, a few brave travelers were climbing the snake trail while we were there.  It is known to be treacherous.  And, very very hot.  

Instead, we took a gondola to the top, which offered some beautiful views of the entire surrounding area.

From the top, you could definitely see why Herod picked this place.  Easy to defend.  Easy to see approaching enemies.  And, easy on the eyes.

After Herod's death, this fortress remained untouched, until the Jewish Zealots decided to overtake the area and make it their own fortress.  (This is a model of what Masada looked like in its prime, as a three-tier palatial retreat.)

We toured the top tier, and could see down to the second tier below us, where yet another palace would have stood.

The Jewish Freedom Fighters, as they are called, moved in around 66 AD, defeating the 1,000 Roman soldiers who guarded Masada.  Because of Herod's excessive need to well-stock his own pantry, they had plenty of food and water to stay quite a while.   This allowed them the freedom to focus on converting these palaces to a place that the Zealots could call home, and continue their "call" to defend themselves and the Jewish people against the Romans, hoping for a victory when the inevitable attack came against their cliffs.  

After the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem, many more Zealots and Jewish refugees added to their number and by the time the Romans did come, the Jewish group at Masada numbered 967 men, women, and children.

In 73 AD, Roman soldiers made it to Masada with the goal of ridding the country of the remaining Jews.  They thought it would be an easy victory.   More than ten thousand soldiers, against less than a thousand Jews.

The Romans built eight temporary camps at the bottom of the hill, seen here in this picture.  They are the square outlines that still remain as the boundaries of each camp.

An even higher view of both the Roman camps and the winding snake trail:

They waited for the Jews to go hungry or get thirsty. But, it wasn't happening.  So, they began to build a ramp to break down the walls of the fortress, as they had done so many times before across their empire.  You can see the ramp here.  

It was eery to still see so much of the remains, bringing this conflict to life.

The Romans were genius to bring Jewish slaves to build the ramp, knowing the Zealots wouldn't kill their own people, even though they had the advantage and could clearly see each and every man who was constructing the road that would lead to their destruction.

Eventually, with the Roman ramp complete, these 967 Jewish people decided that it was still better to die in the hands of God, rather than the hands of the Romans.

So, they burned their own belongings (wouldn't want the Romans to earn anything from this attack!), and organized one of the saddest events I can imagine.  A group suicide plan, where each father killed his own family, and then ten men drew straws for killing those who remained.

It was here in this synagogue that the massive death happened.  They buried the scrolls of Ezekiel, that promised their dry bones to be alive again someday, and they laid down their lives, so that they would not face the wrath of the Roman army.

Wow.  

What a surreal thing to walk where they walked, and to try and imagine what those last days were like.  To create in my mind what that felt like---to have hopelessness and despair at what appeared to be the end, not only of their lives, but of the Jewish race in Israel---but to also live with hope that God is still God and He will still finish what He started here.  I wish they could see what we see now in this nation.

After quite a bit of time exploring the fortress, we traveled on to see the Dead Sea up close and personal.

We had the opportunity to float in the sea, and it was the strangest thing to be held up by the water!  You can see the Dead Sea resorts off in the distance, as it is still a popular attraction for everything from the mineral spa treatments to the solitude you find here.

We all took advantage of this mineral-rich mud and gave ourselves mud masks.  It was so thick and slimy that you could hardly walk through it, and you certainly could feel the effects on your skin! Too bad it smelled TERRIBLE.

The salt was also so strong that you could taste the bitterness even in the air.  It dried on our skin, and actually ended up blistering my toes, where I had been sunburned the day before!

What a priceless experience.  I brought home some saltwater for the girls, and although we have yet to do it, we plan to let it evaporate and see what is left behind.

At the end of our swimming day, we bought fresh pomegranate-orange juice (YUM!) and relaxed while the rest of the group finished.  

This gave us time to visit more with Naftali and take a picture with the guy who brought this place to life for me.

I miss him so much!

And, our dear friend and fearless bus leader, Dana, who served us all, along with her mom, Joan, and began our entire week by sharing her marvelous testimony of God's physical healing in her life just weeks before this trip.  It is one of the most powerful stories of God-sized miracles I have ever heard, and it set us all on a course of eagerness to see God's hand working through our time here, and to share our own stories of life with one another.

In each of our conversations and in all the things we experienced together, I felt the Lord drawing our hearts together. As I told her on the last day, I know without a doubt that she was one of those unexpected blessings from this trip that will continue to last...a friendship that I know God had planned long before this trip was in our sights.

Dana, I am so thankful for the truth of God you showed all of us through the week by the words of your testimony, as well as by the way you so lovingly and selflessly served and shared and worshipped and encouraged.  Love you SO.

Our last stop for the day was at En Gedi, which means "The spring of the mountain goat", and is a natural oasis in the middle of nothing but sandstone mountains and cliffs.

So, it was pretty appropriate that there were mountain goats very near to the road where we parked. It was as if they knew we were there to see the place where they roamed.  :)

I didn't realize from the Bible Lands maps I've seen, that the Dead Sea area we visited on this day was considered "the back door" entry to Jerusalem, and traveling over these sandy cliffs and mountainsides were commonplace for the shepherds and nomads of the day coming and going from that area.  

In fact, David himself traveled often from En Gedi to Bethlehem or Jerusalem, as he led his sheep to green pastures among the sandy desert hills.  As Naftali put it, "this wilderness was David's playground" and he knew every nook and cranny.

So, it makes sense that he was easily hidden among these caves and valleys as he ran from Saul, and as he led his life as a shepherd.

And, it makes many of his psalms come to life now that I've seen what it meant for him to write "You God, are my God, earnestly I seek You.  I thirst for You, my whole being longs for you, in a dry and parched land, where there is no water..."  Ps. 63

This place has such little water...but, yet, here in the middle of it all, was flowing, living water!  Just where those cliffs meet, is a rushing waterfall, out of sight from where we stood, but hiding just behind the green trees and grass.

This was a visible reminder of the many "oasis" moments God has provided for me in my life.  Just when my cry becomes a cry of thirst and longing, with no water in sight, I stumble over one more rocky cliff only to find a rushing waterfall, lush and green and available for me to be renewed and refreshed...and to remember the ultimate Source of our Living Water and Renewal.

This trip to Israel was exactly that.  An oasis in a desert.  A time of renewal that I was crying out for.  Thank you, God, that You met me here in a modern-day En Gedi for my heart.

"The Lord is my Shepherd, I lack nothing.  He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He refreshes my soul."  Ps. 23