Authors: Lynn Austin
Tags: #Religion, #Christian Life, #General, #Spiritual Growth, #Women's Issues, #REL012120, #REL012000, #REL012130
Halfway between Jerusalem and Galilee, we come to the biblical city of Shechem nestled between two guardian peaks, Mount Ebal and Mount Gerizim. The city has been renamed
Nablus
, and it’s in the heart of the occupied territories known as the West Bank. My palms start to sweat whenever we travel through non-Israeli towns, because no one can be certain if a busload of American tourists will be greeted by souvenir sellers or slingstones. In Jesus’ day, the “greetings” in this territory were decidedly hostile. Shechem was in the heart of Samaritan territory, and a Samaritan temple once stood atop Mount Gerizim. Jews were as unwelcome back then as they are now. Yet Scripture says that Jesus visited Jacob’s well near Shechem and had an extended conversation with a Samaritan woman.
In spite of my uneasiness at entering Palestinian territory, I’m eager to glimpse this site. It’s little more than a dusty Middle Eastern town with a few archaeological ruins, but to me, it’s a landmark place, the site of kept promises. In the book of Genesis, young Joseph set off in his multicolored coat on an errand for his father, searching for his brothers who were tending their flocks near Shechem. Joseph’s hike was a long one—a distance of more than 44 miles from Bethlehem. And did I mention that this territory is mountainous? The transmission on our tour bus chugs and huffs like the Big Bad Wolf as it negotiates the hills and mountain passes, and I would growl, too, if I had to hike this route on foot. Joseph
might have been relieved to finally see his brothers and their flocks in the distance, but his relief was short-lived. Burning with jealousy, his brothers attacked him and sold him into slavery in Egypt.
When my Jewish friends retell this story, they don’t glamorize Joseph the way we do, seeing him as a victim of malicious older brothers. They see him as a selfish, spoiled brat who had a God-given dream that his brothers would one day bow down to him, and who then acted to bring it about himself, becoming a snitch, a tattletale. Before God could fulfill His promise and raise Joseph up, Joseph would first have to go down into slavery and exile and suffering.
At times Joseph must have believed he would die, first in the pit where his brothers threw him, and later in prison in Egypt. How could God’s purpose for his life ever be fulfilled under these circumstances? But while Joseph may have doubted his future, he didn’t give up on God. Perhaps as he lay in prison replaying his ill-fated journey to Shechem, he recalled the promise that God had made to his ancestor Abraham in that very city. Shechem was the first place Abraham stopped in the Promised Land and built an altar to God. And it’s where God made the promise, “To your offspring I will give this land” (Genesis 12:7). At the time, Abraham had a barren wife, no offspring, and didn’t own any real estate in this land, which already happened to be inhabited. Later Joseph’s father, Jacob, also built an altar in Shechem. He had sojourned in exile for a long time, trying to grab God’s promises through his own ingenuity until Jacob finally bowed to the God of his ancestors, vowing to serve Him (Genesis 33:20).
Joseph must have kept these stories in mind, because after everything he endured, after finally accomplishing God’s
plan for his life, he asked his descendants to carry his bones back from Egypt to the Promised Land and bury them in Shechem—the place where his long, dark journey into slavery began. Maybe this was Joseph’s way of saying, “My enemies thought they’d defeated me here, that God’s purpose for my life was derailed, but God always keeps His promises.”
Four hundred years after Joseph was carried off to Egypt, God delivered the entire nation from slavery and they brought Joseph’s bones home during the exodus (Exodus 13:19). Moses’ successor, Joshua, buried those bones at Shechem (Joshua 24:32). The Promised Land had been conquered by Israel, the people settled in the land. God’s promise to Abraham had come true—the land was theirs—and so Joshua assembled the nation here at Shechem. With half of the people standing on the slopes of Mount Gerizim, the other half on Mount Ebal, he recounted the miracles that God had performed for them, how He’d led them and guided them. Joshua told the people, “You know with all your heart and soul that not one of all the good promises the Lord your God gave you has failed. Every promise has been fulfilled; not one has failed” (Joshua 23:14). Joshua ended his speech with the stirring words, “Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve . . . But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord” (Joshua 24:15).
And that’s the choice we must make each day, especially when, like Joseph, we find ourselves forced to go in a direction other than the one we have chosen, walking a path of suffering. Will I continue to trust that God’s plan for me will be fulfilled even though I have to wait for it like Abraham did, like Joseph did—and then wait some more? Will I choose to believe that God has a purpose for all the detours in my life?
We can pick any one of the hundreds of promises that we have in Christ and claim it as our own, knowing that God always keeps His promises. Always. Not one has failed. The fact that I’m standing here in Shechem, a forgiven, beloved child of God, is the fulfillment of another promise that God gave to Abraham, saying that through him, all the people on earth would be blessed (Genesis 12:3). Not only the Jews but also the Gentiles could become His children—a prophecy that was fulfilled through Christ. After Jesus had His conversation here with the woman at the well, “Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in him” (John 4:39). They were Gentiles—and God’s promise of worldwide blessing began to be fulfilled.
God’s Word is as firm and sure as these two mountains that stand guard above this place. I can choose to believe—and trust and wait, knowing that God always keeps His promises. Or I can take matters into my own hands and try to fulfill them on my own, like Joseph initially did. Today, I choose once again to trust Him, in spite of all the unsettling changes back home, in spite of the dryness I’ve felt in my soul. My calling hasn’t changed and neither has God. I am called to be His workmanship—His one-of-a-kind masterpiece—“created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” (Ephesians 2:10). He is not only interested in what I do for Him, but also in the person I am becoming in the process. The God who changed childless Abraham into the father of many nations, who changed Joseph from a spoiled brat into a world leader, and who transformed the unhappy woman at the well into His daughter, wants to transform me, too.
The lesson of Shechem is that God is faithful. The question we all face when we stand here—like Abraham once did—is will I choose to believe His promises?
For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.
Psalm 103:11–12
A N
EW
P
RAYER
FOR
THE
J
OURNEY
Our faithful, promise-keeping Father,
I praise You for Your unfailing love and mercy for all mankind, a love that we cannot imagine and don’t deserve. Not one of Your good promises to us have failed, nor will they ever fail. Forgive me for stubbornly running from Your call, like Jonah, when asked to share Your love with others. You have taken me to hard, dry places in order to break my sinful habits and reveal my need to change, yet I have resisted. Thank You, Lord, for this dry season and for all You are teaching me through it. Keep me watchful against unseen enemies, against compromise, and may I be faithful to sound the warning and to fight Your battles with courage. Help me to hear Your call and, like Peter, to walk unafraid into the work You have chosen for me to do.
Amen
9
Galilee
Jesus returned to Galilee in the power of the Spirit, and news about him spread through the whole countryside. He taught in their synagogues, and everyone praised him.
Luke 4:14–15
W
e have reached the region of Galilee and the shimmering, harp-shaped lake that’s known as the Sea of Galilee. Jesus and His disciples had to be rugged indeed to walk all the way here from Jerusalem. I’m tired after the long bus ride! The lake is smaller than most people imagine; you can see the opposite shore no matter which side you stand on. But I love that the Galilee region is green even though the calendar says it’s winter. It feels like paradise after the brutal wilderness in the south. This is an area of orchards and vineyards, banana groves, citrus trees, and avocado farms. Our bus drives past a lemon grove and the bright yellow fruit seems to glow against the dark green leaves.
We finally climb off the bus, and I am awestruck to find myself standing in the biblical village of Capernaum. It’s one of those places I’ve heard about in Sunday school lessons and in sermons all of my life but never imagined I would visit. The name, so mispronounced in Christian circles, was originally “K’far Nahum” meaning “Village of Nahum”—possibly the prophet’s birthplace. The town rests on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, and the sun seems brighter here as it reflects off the water. It’s a beautiful lake, the same one that Jesus saw.
Jesus used Capernaum as the headquarters for His ministry. “Leaving Nazareth, [Jesus] went and lived in Capernaum, which was by the lake in the area of Zebulun and Naphtali” (Matthew 4:13). It was also the hometown of His disciples Peter and Andrew, and their fishing partners James and John. There is no longer a village of any kind here, only Israel’s typical tourist combination of archaeological ruins and a Christian church commemorating the site.
The most impressive set of ruins are those of a spacious synagogue dating from the fourth or fifth century AD. This building wasn’t here in Jesus’ day, but it stands on the foundation of the one that was. The synagogue where Jesus taught would have looked much like this one, with the same features common to all synagogues in Galilee. Tall stone pillars held up the roof of the sanctuary, and steplike seats lined three of its walls like bleachers, facing the flat area in the middle. A special niche contained the sacred scrolls of the Law and the Prophets. Outside, a
mikveh
, or ritual bath, would have been used for purification.
Jerusalem Church
Jesus preached here, on this very spot: “They went to Capernaum, and when the Sabbath came, Jesus went into the synagogue and began to teach. The people were amazed
at his teaching, because he taught them as one who had authority, not as the teachers of the law” (Mark 1:21–22). It’s easy to picture Him standing in the center of the synagogue floor, reading from the Torah, explaining God’s Word to the people as they sat in rapt attention. The gospel of John records one of Jesus’ more controversial sermons, which included the startling words: “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life . . .” (6:54). John concludes by noting, “He said this while teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum” (John 6:59). Yes, this site has authenticity, a sense that Jesus was here, and that lives were forever changed in this place.
“As soon as they left the synagogue, they went with James and John to the home of Simon and Andrew” (Mark 1:29). Capernaum was a very small village and it’s a short walk from the synagogue to the remains of Peter’s home. After Jesus arrived, He cured Simon Peter’s mother-in-law of a fever, and she got out of bed to wait on Him. Later that same evening when the Sabbath ended, “The whole town gathered
at the door, and Jesus healed many who had various diseases” (vv. 33–34).
Peter was a fisherman, and his home was a humble stone dwelling where several generations probably lived under one roof. In this temperate Mediterranean climate, much of the cooking and other daily living would have taken place in the outdoor courtyard. Archaeologists identified these ruins as Peter’s house because of a very early Christian church that had been built over the remains of a first-century home. Another church from the fifth century was built on top of that one. Both churches are gone. Today, Peter’s house is barely visible beneath a modern church that looks as though a spaceship has landed on Peter’s roof.
What strikes me about Capernaum is that it is nothing more than a tourist site. The small, present-day churches that mark the site appear to be tourist destinations, not thriving congregations. The once-bustling fishing village—the home base of the Son of God and His ministry—is gone. Just as Jesus warned it would be. “Woe to you, Korazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the miracles that were performed in you had been performed in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented . . . And you, Capernaum, will you be lifted up to the skies? No, you will go down to the depths” (Luke 10:13, 15). If it weren’t for the ruins, you wouldn’t know that the town had existed. The village from Jesus’ day, like so many other sites in Israel, was destroyed during the Roman invasion in AD 70 that also demolished the Temple and Jerusalem. An earthquake or one of many foreign invaders over the past two thousand years probably razed the fifth-century synagogue that was rebuilt over the original one. Israel has seen much destruction and warfare since Jesus’ day, including six wars
since the founding of the modern nation in 1948. I’m not surprised that nothing much is left.