The Inspiring Stories of Israel

By Adam Hunter, Associate Editor

As appeared in

NAZARETH
It’s an awesome feeling to be in Israel, a place where it’s hard to walk anywhere a prophet, savior or other biblical hero hasn’t walked before.

Like the city of Nazareth, where I found myself on the first day of my weeklong tour through the Christian religious and historical sites of the Holy Land, hosted by the Israel Ministry of Tourism. It was my third time to Israel—I first went when I was 14 with my family—but every time offers new and enriching experiences. This trip would be no exception.

I’d imagined Nazareth would look like it did in the movie The Nativity Story, which we featured in Guideposts a few Christmases ago. But that Nazareth was nowhere to be seen among the apartment buildings topped with satellite dishes.

Then we drove up a hill overlooking the city, and arrived at Nazareth Village, a first-century hamlet recreated by biblical scholars. Here, a woman dressed in a Roman-era tunic—fittingly named Mary—cooked us a traditional lunch over an open fire: pita bread and lentil soup, with salads, apples, dates and honey—fruits of the area’s farms.

Our guide to the village demonstrated an olive-oil press, explaining how the first few drops of oil produced are called extra virgin. To Jews of the first century, our guide said, it was holy. Sweeter than the rest of the oil, it was reserved for anointing the high priests. It didn’t smoke when burned, so it was used to power the eternal flame kept lit in the temple.

I’m Jewish, and I never knew that.

Sitting in the synagogue, recreated to the last detail, including a roof built of mud and straw, I imagined myself back in time. My fellow tourists, listening to our guide, became the people of Nazareth, learning from our “rabbi.” The modern city faded away.

GALILEE
I woke up the next day in a haze. Overnight, a white cloud had settled over Tiberias—a city on the west shore of the Sea of Galilee and our base for exploring the area.

The region’s gorgeous views were obscured. But as we sailed around the Sea of Galilee in our charter boat, one member of our group, Bonnie, gave a devotional reading that put things in perspective. “Even though the sun is out of view, it is still there,” she said. “And so it is with God.”

The crew raised an American flag alongside an Israeli one to welcome us. Then the music started. The captain and his first mate sang traditional Jewish folk songs and led us in a spirited hora, a circle dance not normally performed on rocking boats. I know the hora well: It’s the typical dance at Jewish weddings and bar and bat mitzvahs (a Jewish rite of passage). But sharing it with people who had never danced it before gave me a thrill.

Back on the road again, I could finally see the beauty of this region. I gazed out the bus window at the lush green valleys and rolling hills, the date palms and mango trees, greenhouses and grazing cows.

On top of the Mount of the Beatitudes, where Jesus gave his famous sermon, we sat in a garden filled with chirping birds and colorful flowers, listening to our group organizer recite Jesus’ words, “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” The hazy sky made it easier to block out anything modern in the valley and imagine it as it was so many centuries ago.

THE DEAD SEA
We drove down south the next morning through the Jordan Valley toward the Dead Sea. I watched the farms and greenhouses slowly disappear, the green hills become rocky, barren cliffs.