The House of Caiaphas

Posted on November 11, 2009 by Jeff Block

House of Caiaphas

Matthew 26 records that, on Thursday night after the last supper with His disciples, Jesus retreated to the Mount of Olives to pray in the Garden of Gethsemane. He typically went alone, but this time asked Peter, James, and John (His closest friends) to go with Him. There He agonized under the weight of the mission before Him, knowing that it would be impossibly hard to go to the cross, and be separated from the unbroken circle of fellowship He’d experienced with God from eternity past as He paid an unimaginable price for the sins of the entire world … for my sin and yours. Eventually, though, Jesus resolved, “Shall I not drink the cup my Father has given me?” as recorded in John 18:11.

After Jesus had submitted Himself to His Father and resolved to go through with His mission, He was ready to be handed over to the authorities, tried, convicted, and sentenced to death. Knowing this was coming, He woke the disciples (who couldn’t watch with Him even for an hour – sounds familiar), and waited for Judas to arrive with a bunch of thugs claiming to be doing God’s work.

Jesus permitted Himself to be captured, and the soldiers took Him away in chains (ostensibly) to the house of Caiaphas, the High Priest. There, He was interrogated and mocked, and ultimately thrown into a cistern in Caiaphas’ basement.

After lunch at the Sheraton in Jerusalem, we headed for the house of Caiaphas. Jesus would have been marched down the Mount of Olives, across the Kidron Valley, and up the side of Mount Zion just south of Mount Moriah where the temple mount is located. These are fairly small mountains we’re talking about here, but it’s still a bit of hike. I’d say He would have had to march maybe 2 miles – nothing for someone who made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem from Nazareth three times a year. We took the bus.

Or course, there’s a church built on top of Caiaphas’ place, which wasn’t really worth going through so I won’t bore you with details. But under the church in the basement was the actual chamber where Jesus is thought to have been kept. Now that’s interesting! We stood in the old cistern where they believe He was and read a psalm together. Unfortunately, I don’t remember which it was. It was amazing to be where Jesus might have personally been. They also think that He was dropped down into the water in the room from a hole in the ceiling, which had to be 15 feet above the floor. Whether there was a lot of water and he had to tread water all night or there was a little water and he was basically getting dropped on the floor from that height… Either way, doesn’t sound like He would have had a pleasant night.

I have to say that my amazement never wears off in terms of Jesus’ sacrifice for us. It doesn’t get anymore profound than God’s humbling Himself to the level that Jesus did, even to the point of physical death and spiritual separation from God the Father. Praise be to the Living God for the grace and love He shows us in Christ!

In the way of additional information about Jerusalem, here are a few of the places our guide pointed out to us from the roof of the church that commemorates the house of Caiaphas:

  • We saw “David’s City” on Mount Zion between the Kidron and Tyropaeion valleys. This was the (MUCH smaller) area covered by Jerusalem in David’s time before Solomon built the temple.
  • We saw the location of the Pool of Siloam at southern end of the Tyropaeion valley
  • We saw the Valley of Gehenna west of Mount Zion. In ancient times, residents of Jerusalem threw their garbage out of the Dung gate into the valley, because the stench would then drift southeast away from the city into the wilderness, blown by the breeze coming off the Mediterranean Sea. Jesus referred to Gehenna as a metaphor for hell, because the fires in the valley (consuming the garbage) never went out.
  • The three valleys – Kidron, Tyropaeion, and Gehenna – form the Hebrew letter “W” or “Shin”, which is the first letter in “Shaddai”, the Hebrew name for God. Our tour guide mentioned this more than once with great pride. It was clear that he believed this to mean that God regards the Israelites as special.
  • We saw a wall being erected (seemed nearly done) by Israel where they believe the border of a Palestinian state will one day reside. We ask our guide if Israelis are angry about having to give up territory to the Palestinians. He said yes, but that they had to do so, because the Palestinian population is growing much faster than the Jewish population. Therefore, he said that if they don’t allow a state to be formed and give up some land, in 50-100 years, Palestinians will control the government of Israel anyway and take everything. So, better to give them their own state so that they leave Israel alone (in theory). Interesting take; sounds like a familiar problem.
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Church of Agony / Church of All Nations

Posted on November 11, 2009 by Jeff Block

I thought about entitling this blog entry, “How I wasted an hour of my life in some dingy Catholic ‘church’ on the Mount of Olives”, but I figured that might be a little harsh. Instead, I’ll try make this brief, and let you get on to far more important things.

So, a Catholic Franciscan order of some kind has purchased / has the rights to pretty much every major “holy site” in Israel. Their modus operandi (Latin — you know, their “M.O.”) is to raise money (ostensibly from Bingo tournaments), purchase the land where something of Biblical significance (like where Jesus stubbed His toe one day in Nazareth), build a church there to commemorate the event (such as “The Most Holy Church of the Stubbed Toe”), and finally set up shop to sell superstitious trinkets to tourists at ridiculous prices (“Replicas of Jesus’ stubbed toe – 3 for $10”). In this case, they had purchased a small plot of land next to the Garden of Gethsemane and built a church called the “Church of Agony”, because Jesus had agonized in the garden over His decision to be obedient to God in going to the cross (as recorded in Matthew 26).

It is also called the “Church of All Nations” because churches from around the world – mostly Catholic, I think – contributed financial to its construction.

Don’t get my wrong, I’m happy that an order like this has taken the time and invested the money to preserve holy sites in Israel. Good for them! It’s more than I’ve done. But what I don’t like is that it feels like, in the process of “preserving” these sites, they’ve in some sense ended up destroying them. Let me explain…

The churches they setup are fine, I guess, but they’re more like museums. The body of Christ doesn’t meet there. There is no Biblical community. The hungry aren’t fed, the naked aren’t clothed, and the gospel isn’t preached. I’m sorry, but churches aren’t buildings. Churches are local communities of the followers of Jesus Christ. Churches are the hope of the world. Churches != monuments. I’d rather have them toss up a statue and be done with it, if they really feel like they have to spend money, time, and energy to create a something-or-other of remembrance. And when it really goes off the rails is when they tack the tourist-trap-gift-shop wing onto the church. Now, instead of just sucking up funds needlessly to propagate the false message that “if you have a building with the right (read: symbolic) number of walls, then somehow you have a church that honors God in some way”, now you have a full-on way to blasphemously idolize / trivialize the thing that happened there in the first place. So, when we visited the Jordan River, for example, they were selling little bottles of “holy water from the Jordan” … right next to the $3 cans of soda, the $2 Snickers bars, and the $5 cans of Pringles. Total rip off. I’d rather they just put up a fence and a guard, and let us come and reflect on Jesus in peace. But maybe that’s just me.

Okay, end of rant.

Anyway, as part of the tour, we were given the option to visit the Church of Agony. Because I’m a spineless yes-man, I decided to take it in – along with about half of the rest of the group. The courtyard around the church was absolutely beautiful, containing 800 year-old olive trees. I was impressed. Now there’s Franciscan cash well spent, in my opinion.

But upon entering the fenced in area surrounding the church, I knew the effort probably wouldn’t be worth it. There were hordes of people mashed up against each other pushing and shoving to get both in and out of the church. It took us a solid 15 minutes to get in, and when we did it was just a dark little room with three mosaics on the walls – one of Jesus’ agonizing in the garden, one of the soldiers seizing Jesus, and a third one I can’t remember. They were okay I guess, but for me they were overshadowed by the rude, shoving hordes and the lack of any real meaning in the place itself. I think a place like that is great for the “if I just sprinkle holy water on my key chain then it’ll become holy and I’ll have a blessed life” person, because it fits into their superstitious / ritualistic / formula-driven view of God. Personally, I found contemplative time in the garden overlooking the city to be much more spiritually beneficial.

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The Garden of Gethsemane

Posted on November 11, 2009 by Jeff Block

Garden of Gethsemane

The Garden of Gethsemane was not at all what I pictured from reading about it in the Bible. I imagined a vast apple orchard, where Jesus was betrayed in the midst of flowering trees and green meadowy grass. Maybe a daisy or two here or there, but certainly a nice flat spacious valley of lush greenery.

We walked from the Necropole down a narrow stone street. A few street vendors called out to us to try to sell us stuff. “Bags 4 for $10!” … “Bookmarks, $2!” … “I’ll give you 2 goats for your used Volkswagen!” That kind of thing.

At one point we walked by a Bedouin-looking guy with a mule that he made smile at us by holding his head and squeezing. He looked the part in every way, and his mule made a fine circus animal. I think he was selling rides, but I’m not sure because I was too busy trying to A) stay with the group so as not to get lost in Jerusalem, and B) fight off the street vendors who insisted that I’d look great in 5 brightly colored scarves for $10.

At another point we saw cars coming within inches of each other and driving through mobs of people with far less regard for their safety than my western sensibilities were comfortable with. Masses of people, narrow winding roads, steep hills, no sidewalks, aggressive drivers, and a total disregard for (perhaps lack of existence of) traffic laws added up to a mildly stressful walking-down-the-street-to-the-garden experience. But we managed.

When we finally got to the garden (only a few minutes walk from the Necropole), it was not at all want I expected (as I said). Instead of a flat lush expanse, it was a fairly steep rocky embankment. There were lots of trees (some of them evidently many hundreds of years old), winding paths up the slopes, and large boulders. There was less grass than there was underbrush, but it was green, and lush, and beautiful in its own way. I think I found it beautiful most because of its Biblical significance and because I was there with dozens of godly Jesus-loving fanatics, like myself. In fact, around these folks I feel the need to step it up a notch.

By the way, just for the record, the Garden of Gethsemane is where Jesus went to pray with Peter, James and John after the last supper on the Thursday night before He was captured and crucified. Judas brought the religious SS out the garden and kissed Jesus to make sure they knew which one He was. Peter cut off the guard’s ear, which Jesus healed. Then they took Him to Caiaphas’ place on the south side of the city to hold Him until He could be tried before Pilot in the morning. The disciples were neither able to pray with Jesus (weak), stop the arresting guards (misguided), or stay with Jesus when He was captured (afraid). And then Peter denied Jesus three times while He waited to stand trial. The more I read about these disciple guys, the more I relate to them. Sigh!

Oh, and check out Matthew 26 to read the story for yourself (which I highly encourage). In the meantime, back to the garden in present times…

After we’d rallied up and selected some nice comfortable stones to sit on, Lindsay McCaul led us in worship (awesome!), and James MacDonald preached on giving hard things to God. As usual, he exposited the Scriptures, rather than just walking through a couple random thoughts supported deductively by Google-located Bible verses. And his delivery brimmed with the expectation that we would actually apply the Word to our lives, not just listen to a message, which I’m all about! James’ main point was that Jesus had to surrender His will to God — to be willing to do something extremely hard that His Father had called Him to do. His question to us was, “What hard thing is God asking you to surrender to Him?” He focused on Jesus’ words in John 18:11, which I absolutely love: “Shall I not drink the cup my Father has given me?”

When he had finished his brief message, James directed us to spread out and get alone with God in the garden. Unlike the message two nights before on the Sea of Galilee or the previous morning on the Mount of Beatitudes, I knew exactly what God was asking me to do and how James’ message applied to my life personally. Although that felt really good, the task at hand feels intimidating. No, of course I’m not going to share in this context what I’m talking about, but I would say this… God calls us to trust Him with our whole hearts, our whole lives. Not only is it foolish and impractical to withhold from God any part of who we are, it keeps us from the life God wants us to have. Fullness of joy only exists in total surrender.

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Necropole … and some things you might want to know about the Eastern Gate

Posted on November 11, 2009 by Jeff Block

I can only assume that we visited the Necropole (wouldn’t “Necropolis” also work?) in order to build suspense before taking us to the Garden of Gethsemane, But whatever his reason, our tour guide took us on a brief detour to visit a cemetery on the slopes of the Mount of Olives.

The Jews believe (I suppose this is in the Bible, though I confess I don’t know where) that the Messiah will enter Jerusalem through Eastern (or “Golden”) gate when He comes. He’ll then proceed up to the temple (there will have to be one for this prophecy to be fulfilled) on the Temple Mount esplanade and make sacrifices to God. Parenthetically, one of the members in our group was expert in seizing this opportunity to ask our non-Christian tour guide if Jesus had entered in through this gate on Palm Sunday, knowing that the answer was “yes”, but wanting to make the point that the Messiah had already entered through the Eastern gate. Rock on!

Anyway, when the Muslims gained control of the city in the 7th century, they were evidently quite aware of the prophecies about the Jewish Messiah, and wanted to make it as hard as possible for Him to fulfill them. Plus, in general, I think they wanted to seize every opportunity to be a pain in the Jews’ collective you-know-where. Result: they sealed up the Eastern Gate, walling it in, building some nice iron gates, even putting big locks on the gate. I was surprised not to see broken glass on the floor and barbed wire. I’m sure that would have made their little mountain much more safe from the Living God who created them and their barbed wire. But I digress…

On top of walling up the Eastern Gate, they apparently reasoned, “This Messiah guy is probably going to be a priest, so He’ll probably want to remain all ceremonially clean and such. I know what we can do to be even more obnoxious … we’ll put a Muslim cemetery outside the wall-formerly-known-as-the-Eastern-Gate. Then He’ll never come in this way since He’d defile Himself by walking through dead gentile bones.”

Genius! I’m sure God is totally stumped.

Anyway, I told you all that to explain that the next closest place the Jews had available to them to build their nifty cemetery was Necropole, on the lower western slopes of the Mount of Olives, across the Kidron Valley from the Temple Mount, the Eastern Gate, and the Muslim cemetery that is actively thwarting God’s attempts to rule the universe. The goal of having a cemetery “close to the action” was that when the resurrection takes place (something both Jews and Christians believe will happen), these folks would rise first. So, you can imagine how coveted plots in the Necropole are. Very popular place!

So, let’s review…

  • The Muslims believe that God can’t handle a stone wall and a few bones.
  • And the Jews believe that if you’re physically closer to the temple, you’ll be cooler when you get resurrected.

I think I’ll just go on believing Jesus loves me and wants my heart in return. I’ll leave the burial-related hoops for these other folks. And that’s the end of the story of the Necropole. Truth be told, I could have skipped this part and gone straight to the Garden.

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Mount of Olives

Posted on November 11, 2009 by Jeff Block

Mount of Olives

After breakfast, the first place we gathered on our first whole day in Jerusalem, was the Mount of Olives. The temple mount (where Solomon’s temple used to sit and the Dome of the Rock sits now) sits atop Mount Moriah in the south of Israel, above the Negev dessert immediately west of the northernmost tip of the Dead Sea. The Mount of Olives is west of the temple mount, across the Kidron Valley.

The Mount of Olives was one of Jesus’ favorite places. He retreated there often to pray, taught their occasionally, and ascended to heaven from there. It’s believed that just as His feet last touched the earth there, it will be the first place they touch the earth again when He returns. Also, the Garden of Gethsemane – where Jesus was marked by Judas and captured by the Jewish leadership, to ultimately be crucified – is located on the Mount of Olives.

We started our day in one of several mini stone amphitheaters created as teaching / viewing spots on the Mount of Olives overlooking the city. With the exception of some terribly fleeting glimpses of it the evening before entering into the city, this was our first real view of the Temple Mount and the Dome of the Rock. Gary Frazier, the Director of Discovery Ministries, our tour company, spoke to us about the history of Israel past, present, and future. I won’t go into huge details on Jerusalem from his talk. Maybe I’ll devote an entry to a brief Jerusalem lesson, but there are so many other places far more qualified to give that kind of supporting / contextual / historic information than my blog.

There are a couple highlights from our time together on the Mount of Olives – before we descended down to the Garden of Gethsemane – that I’d like to share though.

First, just behind us (over the Mount of Olives to the west) is the town of Lazeria. In Biblical times, this was Bethany. This is where Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, and it was from roughly where we were sitting during Gary’s talk that Jesus looked out over Jerusalem and wept (Matthew 23, Luke 19) because the people had rejected God provoking God’s judgment on Jerusalem and the Israelites. Jesus knew that someday the city would lie in ruins, and of course He was right.

Secondly, Lindsay McCaul led worship, which I always love. I was particularly interested in a new song I haven’t heard before called “Beautiful”. Will have to get that one from iTunes when I get home.

Lastly, a word on the Temple Mount. It is built where it is on Mount Moriah because that’s where David built an altar on the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite in 2 Samuel 24. David displayed a sinful independence and a lack of faith in God by conducting a census of his fighting men. As a result, God punished him and Israel with a plaque, But David built an altar to pray to God and beg forgiveness. As a result, God averted the plaque. It was in this process that David – in response to Araunah’s offer to give him the threshing floor for the altar – made his famous statement in verse 24, “I will buy [the threshing floor] from you for a price. I will not offer burnt offerings to the Lord my God that cost me nothing.”

This all took place on Mount Moriah. So later, when Solomon set out to build a temple for God after David’s death, he chose this sacred place to do so. This is where the Dome of the Rock sits today.

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Overpriced Olive Wood

Posted on November 10, 2009 by Jeff Block

Overpriced Olive Wood

Both leading up to the trip and once I got there, I heard a lot about the rules of shopping in Israel.

  • Rule #1: Always haggle. If you buy the thing you’re looking at for sticker price, they’ll think you’re a rich, naive American.
  • Rule #2: Be prepared to be inundated. If you are on the street for more than 3 minutes, and nobody offers you something for $2, then you might be a leper.
  • Rule #3: Don’t eat fruit sold by street vendors, especially if unpeeled. Parasites abound; you don’t want none of that.
  • Rule #4: Don’t use your credit card at just any shop. If you haven’t been told a shop is reputable by someone you trust, then they will likely add zeros to the purchase amount when running your card through.
  • Rule #5: Goats are a legitimate trading currency. ‘Nuff said.

There are probably more important rules, but I want to jump straight to one that was near and dear to my heart as we ascended the mountains into Jerusalem…

  • Rule #N: Don’t buy the overpriced olive wood.

I could have easily entitled this entry, “Shopping at Kickback Village”. Here’s how it went…

By the time we got to Jerusalem, I’d already ignored dozens of offers for bags, hats, scarves, bookmarks, maps, and other “4 for $10″ specials. Many times, the peddlers were waiting for our bus when it stopped somewhere, and I’ve no doubt that the tour guides and drivers were all in the cabal that brought them to the dozens of tourists confined on the large tour bus. They were easy to rebuff.

But on the way up to Jerusalem, our tour guide gets on the mic, and goes into great detail telling us all about the trustworthiness and the amazing prices we’re going to encounter at this shop he’s taking us to. Of course, this was a reputable shop. You can use your credit card here. Prices are even in US dollars. You can trust these folks. Run by a good Christian guy.

So, the bus pulls up to the front of this shop in random quarter of Jerusalem somewhere. We could have been in Syria, and I wouldn’t have known it.

Sitting and standing outside the door on the sidewalk are literally a dozen people – ostensibly people working the shop – waiting for us. Before we’re even off the bus, they’re trying to sell us bags, hats, and the like. We get into the shop, and there is the most beautiful olive wood carvings I’d ever seen (okay, don’t see much in the way of olive wood carvings, but you get the idea). A huge carving of the Last Supper immediately caught my eye. It had to have been 3.5 foot long by 2 foot wide, with the figures standing 4-5” tall (okay, speculation! everyone knows the guys were reclining at the Last Supper).

Olive Last Supper

Another huge nativity scene was pretty cool too; I have a thing for nativity scenes. Anyway, the walls were lined with jewelry and touristy trinkets. I thought I’d finally be able to get a souvenir or two … until I saw the prices.

But before I could start manhandling things, the owner of the shop was introduced by our tour guide. If there’s an Israeli mafia, this guy was in it. Every Greek mafia stereotype you can possibly conceive of was embodied in this man. I wanted to take a picture, but I also wanted to keep my camera (and my fingers). So, none of that.

He introduced himself, told us he followed Jesus, and then proudly described his shop and how high the quality of the “art and artifacts” were. By the time he was done, I realized I had involuntarily removed my credit card from my wallet, and had the overwhelming urge to start swiping. So, when he stopped talking, I started browsing. I knew I’d never be able to afford the huge pieces, so I started with the smaller status you see above in lead image for this blog entry. They were about 8″ tall and beautiful, so I figured I had a shot at a really nice souvenir of the trip. I saw one of Jesus holding little children – you know, “Let the children come to me…” from Matthew 19 – and I thought that’d be perfect. It’s hard to remember, since my recall is clouded by the memory of what happened next, but I think in my mind I was expecting the figure to be priced ridiculously high at like $500 and I’d have to talk the guy down to maybe more like $200. I remember emotionally psyching myself up for the challenge of talking him down way below the 50% haggle threshold. I looked at the piece, walked away, came back, ask a question about it – did all the things you’re supposed to do to throw off the “I’m interested, but not *that* interested” vibe. When I was finally ready to start negotiations, I picked it up and flipped it over to find the price tag.

Now, Israel uses the “New Israeli Shekel” or NIS. The conversion from USD to NIS when I was there was 1:3.7. So, a $100 item would be 370 NIS. So, I was expecting to see a price tag of maybe 1800 NIS. My eyes focused. The price was 2500. I gasp. “2500 shekels!?” I muttered aloud uncontrollably, disturbed both that I was off by almost $200 and that it was going to be way harder to talk them down from their ridiculous $675 to $200ish than from $500.

The guy standing their corrected me, “All prices are in American dollars, sir.”

I just looked at him and set it down.

Seriously? $2,500 for a chuck of wood. Are you kidding me?! I don’t care if de Vinci himself carved this thing, there is no way I’m paying $2,500 or even $1,000 dollars … or even $300 … for an olive wood statue, even if it is of Jesus.

I bought absolutely nothing that day. After the original shock wore off, I spent the rest of our considerable time there mocking the price tags. I went from item to item marveling at the prices: $8,000 for this olive wood thing, $700 for this necklace, $30 for this crucifix, and it just kept going. People were lined up to buy though, with trays full of stuff. The other buses showed up too. And then I noticed that there had to have been 20 people working there that night. I’m sure their whole business was tours and tour guides. They had it down to a science.

On the way out, we were accosted again by street vendors. It got pretty funny though, when one of my bus mates starting hocking wares for them on the bus. I shot some video, which is okay, but the really funny stuff happened before I got the camera turned on. For me, it was free entertainment, much to the shigrin of our highly-capitalist hosts.

Coming soon: Links to the video on Facebook.

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