Sandstorms

I took this picture while we were driving through the Arava Desert. Visibility was poor and by the time we arrived in Eilat, our skin and hair were grimy and dirty, even though the windows in the car were up and the vents were closed. This sandstorm was definitely not one of the Middle East's worst; by comparison, really treacherous sandstorms make this one seem tame.

I remember Jean Saad - a British-born Jordanian - talking about sand to depict a point during a teaching session. She said, "There's a lot of sand in this part of the world." And she's right. It's everywhere. In the United States, it's okay to dust only once a week. In the Middle East, if you don't dust nearly every day, big dust bunnies will accumulate under beds and in corners of rooms.

When we first went to Jordan, we stayed with the Reeds until we got settled into our own apartment. The breeze was nice, so one day I opened the window. The cleaning lady happened to be there and let me know that an open window was not a good idea. The breeze I was enjoying would bring with it fine, almost imperceptible, dust. It would be everywhere...and she would have to clean it! That was my introduction to how dust creates an annoyance for people who live in modern Middle Eastern homes.

Sometimes the Bible compares multitudes of people to the sand of the seashore. Abraham was promised that his descendants would be as innumerable "as the sand which is upon the sea shore" (Genesis 22:17). God reaffirmed this promise to Jacob, Abraham's grandson, again using sand as an illustration (Genesis 32:12). The final battle of all ages will be a dreadfully spectacular display of troops, "the number of whom is as the sand of the sea" (Revelation 20:8).

Aside from representing vast numbers of people, the Bible uses sand in other contexts also. In Egypt, Joseph stored up so much food that it was "as the sand of the sea" (Genesis 41:49). Solomon's wisdom is compared to the sand along the sea shore (I Kings 4:29). And God's thoughts "are more in number than the sand" (Psalm 139:17-18).

God used sand as an object lesson because people living in the Holy Land would have no question about what He meant. Though the landscape varies dramatically, it is still mostly all desert. And desert means sand...a lot of sand, so much sand that no one can measure it.

Biblical people lived with sand, adjusted to its brutal intensity. For them, there were no intercontinental flights available so they could cash in the harsh desert for a cooler locale. The desert was their world. From birth to death, it surrounded them, influenced them, shaped who they were.

And the Middle Eastern sand is not pleasantly arranged along the beautiful backdrop of a Hawaii-type setting. The sun is ruthless and the temperatures are merciless. Where the desert is flat and punctuated by little more than an occasional acacia tree, dust devils form. Where the desert land becomes cragged, impenetrable, and steep, it deters all but the most tenacious individuals. Even where the sand dunes rise and fall, creating a gloriously daunting sight, the desert - not fragile man - commands respect. This is not a place for the faint-hearted.

The lifestyle of Bedouin tribes closely mirrors the lives of biblical patriarchs. When sand swirls around the Bedouin - the people of the desert - they draw their head coverings around their faces for protection. Today, when a sandstorm threatens cities, residents are told to stay indoors if they have asthma or other respiratory problems or if they are very young or very old. A person caught unprotected in a sandstorm has little hope of survival, so the long head covering is an essential item of clothing for a Bedouin desert dweller.

From my first naive introduction to desert life, as I enjoyed the curtains gently blowing in the dusty breeze, to driving through a genuine sandstorm in Israel's Arava Desert, I have gleaned a fresh respect for and understanding of biblical people. Their lives were not easy, but they thrived, they grew, they learned. They had no choice, no alternatives, no options. God assigned them to life in the desert. End of discussion.

Interestingly, I observed that the weather is not a popular subject in the Middle East, as it is in the United States. Whatever comes, they will face it, but they have little interest in analyzing it.

The tendency to ask, "Why?" seems to be imbedded within us Americans. We also ask, "Why me?" We want a logical explanation, a professional analysis that makes sense of our storms.

Job wanted answers also. In the heat of the desert sun, he sought relief from the sore boils - the black leprosy - that plagued him. The sun's heat somewhat eased his pain but even so, he was driven to scrape himself with shards of pottery. He asked "Why, God?" But God's voice was silent.

After many chapters of analysis and questions, Job got his answer. It wasn't the one he wanted. To Job's many questions, God finally replied, "Who is God? Are you God, Job? Who created this world and everything in it? Did you do that, Job? Why don't you stop talking and just trust me?" In the end, God's ways really were best for Job. God really did know what He was doing. Rarely will we understand the storm or its purpose until it is over.

The most difficult storms to accept are the ones we create ourselves. The 1930s Dust Bowl - a time of drought and severe dust storms - resulted mostly because farmers did not use proper farming techniques. They ravaged the fragile topsoil layers of Oklahoma and other areas. Essentially, farmers destroyed their own land. The repurcussions were devastating. When the drought and wind came, it took with it the farmable soil. But even when we create our own problems, God will still help us. He is overwhelmingly patient and kind. He'll help us pick up the pieces of our lives and start anew.

Trust. Don't fight the storm; find the Secret Place and retreat into its shelter. As the Bedouin wraps himself in his garment, protecting himself from the wind and sand, cold and heat, so can we be protected when we submit ourselves to the coverings of our God. It is really not important that we understand the storm; even if we understood it, we are powerless to change it. Trust, rest, retreat into the arms of the Creator.

Ketef Hinnom

 
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The picture on the left is Ketef Hinnom. For perspective, I added the picture on the right. Ketef Hinnom is in the foreground with Mt. Zion in the background. Hinnom is the valley between the two.
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We were in search of Ketef Hinnom, the archaeological burial site where two tiny silver amulets were discovered in 1979. Why was I so interested in these amulets and seeing the place where they were discovered? Because they are the oldest surviving copies of biblical text. They date to the late 7th century BCE. They are about 400 years older than the more renowned Dead Sea Scrolls. The Dead Sea Scrolls were a marvelous find, and in terms of volume, these amulets cannot compare to them. But the amulets are remarkable because, not only are they the oldest copies of biblical text, but they contain the oldest inscription of the name of God: YHWH.
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The two amulets are displayed in the Israel Museum in Jerusalem. They are incredibly small, about 1” x 3-3/4” and 1/2” x 1-1/2”. They are so thin that I could barely detect the inscriptions, even though the smaller one was positioned behind a magnifying glass. The explanatory sign beside them states: “The amulets, inscribed in the ancient Hebrew script, were found rolled into tiny scrolls in a burial cave in Jerusalem. They were incised with a sharp, thin stylus no thicker than a hair’s breadth, and thus deciphering the inscription was difficult.”
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Scholars were eventually able to discern that the amulets contained the Priestly Benediction, found in Numbers 6:24-26. The Lord told Moses that Aaron and his sons should speak these words to the children of Israel. Even today, priests repeat these words every Shabbat in orthodox synagogues.
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On the small amulet was written these words: “[For so-and-so, (the son/daughter of…] h/hu. May h[e]/sh[e] be blessed by YHWH, the warrior and the rebuker of [Evil]: May YHWH bless you, keep you. May YHWH make his face shine upon you and grant you p[ea]ce.”
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The large amulet was similar and scholars were able to distinguish the following: “[…]YHW…the grea[t…who keeps] the covenant and [g]raciousness toward those who love [him] and those who keep [his commandments…] the Eternal […] [the?] blessing more than any [sna]re and more than Evil. For redemption is in him. For YHWH is our restorer [and] rock. May YHWH bles[s] you and [may he] keep you. [May] YHWH make [his face] shine…”
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Ketef Hinnom means “shoulder of Hinnom.” If I remember correctly, modern day Jews pronounce it “Kay-teff Hee-gnome.” It is a hill near Hebron Road that overlooks the Hinnom Valley.
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A guide book got us to the general area, but its directions were not precise enough. We walked up Hebron Road, where we saw a sign that said “Bible Hill.” I thought that this might be Ketef Hinnom. We climbed up Bible Hill and were rewarded with a beautiful view of Mount Zion and the Old City...but no burial cave. We sat on some concrete blocks, enjoying our view of Jerusalem, joking about the “ancient” concrete structures. We could see St. Andrews Church of Scotland, which the guide book said was next to the cave, but a barbed wire fence kept us from accessing the property from Bible Hill. I later learned that this hill is termed Bible Hill because the tribes of Judah and Benjamin used this ridge it to mark their boundaries (Joshua 15:8; 18:16).
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We climbed down the hill and finally found the front gate into the Scottish Church. The clerk in the guest house/church knew nothing about the cave. Only when we described to him what it looked like did he remember that this famous cave was on his property! Anyway, we found the cave. What we were able to view was the lower portion of the burial site, since the upper portion was razed years ago, possibly during a war.
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In Bible days, people were generally buried in family tombs, usually cave-type structures that were hewn out of rocks. Many generations would use these tombs. A good example of this is Abraham’s family. Abraham purchased a cave in Machpelah. The Bible records that Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, and Jacob and Leah were all buried in this same cave (Genesis 23:3-20; 49:29-32).
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At Ketef Hinnom, spaces configured to the shape and size of human bodies were carved on the floor of the tomb. We could even detect the outline of the place where the heads would lie. When a family member died, he or she was placed in one of these spaces.
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Periodically, the skeletons of the dead would be removed and placed in a pit that was in the middle of the cave. If gifts had been buried with the body, they would be placed in this pit too. Here at Ketef Hinnom, archaeologists discovered pieces of pottery, iron, and alabaster, remnants of long-forgotten but once-treasured gifts. This is where the two silver amulets were found. The process of periodic skeleton transfer freed the spaces for the burial of other bodies. One person I met told me that this procedure was practiced once a year.
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So, when the Bible says that a person “slept with his fathers” or was “gathered unto his people,” it is referring to the burial procedure common at that time.
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Of all the places I visited in Jerusalem, Ketef Hinnom, an almost forgotten site, was to me one of the most significant. Written on tiny, fragile silver fragments, is God's name. He wants us to know Who He is. I find it incredibly mindboggling that God would allow the oldest biblical manuscript ever found to be such a beautiful expression of His goodness. It is a rich reminder of God’s eagerness to bless us, to be our protector and source of peace. He is not a distant, unconcerned god, but the One True God whose nature is inherently good, generous, and kind. As a gracious father smiles down upon his children, so does our God’s face shine upon us.
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“The LORD bless thee, and keep thee:
The LORD make his face shine upon thee,
and be gracious unto thee:
The LORD lift up his countenance upon thee,
and give thee peace.”
Numbers 6:24-26

Pastor Urshan's Jerusalem Home

 
 
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In 1948, the Timothy Urshan family, originally from Iran, was forced to leave their Jerusalem home with little except the clothes on their backs. The modern nation of Israel was being born and many people, such as the Urshans, had to leave their possessions and businesses behind. It was an era of conflict, war, and displacement.

One of the sons, Jonathan, was 18 years old at the time and Jerusalem is the only place he had ever called home. Decades later, he became pastor of the Bethel Pentecostal Church in St. Peters, Missouri. He was there about six months when Bill first walked through the doors of the church. Jonathan Urshan was the first person to greet him there. Bill’s life was forever changed by the gospel message preached by this great man of God. Four years later, when I married Bill, Brother Urshan became my pastor also. Our lives have been immeasurably blessed this man’s leadership and also by his wonderful wife’s kindness.

Our apartment in Jerusalem was less than two miles from Pastor Urshan’s childhood and adolescent home in beautiful Rehavia. One day we walked to this lovely neighborhood and located his home on quiet, tree-lined Radak Street. Though the existing house is not the one he lived in, we enjoyed visiting the address. We also frequently passed his school, Terra Sancta College, a large and imposing compound.

During his teaching and preaching, Brother Urshan often references Jerusalem, the Bedouin lifestyle, and aspects of living in this biblical land. After living there and gleaning so much within just three months, it is easy to see how his ministry has benefited by spending his formative years in Israel.

I Need a Hero

We had been living in the Arab world only about a month. A friend of ours told us that he wanted to get back into the army, but was having difficulty due to health problems. He said, “Bill, I need to find a wastah.”

The word was new to us so he explained the concept to us. In the Arab world, a wastah is what Westerners might think of when we say, “It’s all in who you know.” In business arrangements and even everyday life, a wastah comes in handy. This is a person who can be a go-between for you. They can get you to the head of the line, and they cut through red tape for you.

To a great degree, Americans are protected in Jordan. We had two incidents in which total strangers – one was a lieutenant in the Army – gave us their phone numbers and told us to call them if we ever needed their help. That is a wastah. And it was a nice feeling knowing that we could call perfect strangers if we were between a rock and a hard place.

Over time, we were blessed with several other people who became wastahs to us. They helped us renew our visas and purchase a car battery on Friday…the day when all the stores are closed, including auto parts stores. In a land where our total Arabic vocabulary amounted to about 50 words, having a few wastahs came in handy from time to time.

I like the idea of wastah, which rhymes with pasta. I suppose that sometimes it is not good, since the power of a wastah can prevail over merit or ability, but for the most part it is a joined-arms, “I’ll give you a hand-up” kind of thing.

The concept of wastah brings to mind I John 2:1-2 which says “My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous: And he is the propitiation for our sins: and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world.” The wastah of the Arab world is a life lesson in our limitations and God’s abilities. When we mess up, He lifts us up. When our strength is at an end, He invites us to tap His unlimited resources. He is the best kind of wastah.

I am reminded of a time when we were in a restaurant with a pastor and his family. There were a lot of people at the table and the conversation was loud and lively. A little boy’s feet were twisted in his chair and he was stuck. He tried to get someone to help him but no one heard him over all the adult voices. Finally, we all heard the little guy crying out, “I need a hero!” It was so adorably cute that we couldn’t help but laugh as someone rescued him.

That is a wastah. A hero. Someone that helps us when we can’t help ourselves. I have discovered that God is the Wastah of all wastahs …the best kind of hero.

Parting

We are preparing to bring our three-month assignment to a close. As we walked through the crowded shuk yesterday, I couldn't help but be a little sad. I have enjoyed our time in Israel. We have grown to love the fellow believers we know and work with and will miss them so much.

We have spent over ten years of our lives traveling within the U.S., ministering in churches and I have grown accustomed to partings. When we first began evangelizing, it was difficult for me to say goodbye to people that we bonded with during meetings. When you worship, pray, and grow with people, a bond is formed. After a while, I realized that I would probably see all those people again, in maybe a year or two, since we developed a preaching circuit that usually took us back to the same places, so I learned to not be sad when we parted ways.

This is our second extended stay overseas and overseas ministry is different than U.S. ministry. For starters, it is a whole lot easier to get to Indiana than it is to get to Israel!

As in Jordan, I have grown to love these people. Will we ever come back here? Right now, we simply do not know. Even if we do return, some of the people that are here now may have returned to their own countries, since most everyone - like us - is here temporarily.

But God is in control. Our ministry schedule for the summer will take us from Arkansas to Massachusetts to Maine to Minnesota. We are looking forward to this next phase of ministry, even as we have been grateful to have been involved in the work here. We have grown and been immeasurably blessed by those whose lives have touched ours. Even if our paths do not cross again here on this earth, the good that has been done in the spiritual realm will last into eternity!

Robot

Last night, as Bill and I were working in the school office, we heard someone speaking Hebrew over a loudspeaker. We didn't pay a lot of attention to it, because things can be noisy around here. But, a few minutes later, we heard it again so I stepped out onto the balcony to see what was going on. A police van was parked on Ben Yehuda Street, with a ramp lowered. As I watched, a robot came down the ramp onto the street. (Sorry, I did not grab the camera in time to get a picture.) It was black and bulky, about the length of a motorcycle. It went down Ben Yehuda Street out of sight, so I could not see what it was doing, but Bill came out on the balcony in time to see it go back into the van and we both assumed it was a bomb sniffer checking out a report. Apparently, and thankfully! it was a false alarm.

Explosion

Somewhere around 3 o'clock this afternoon, we heard a loud boom. To be honest, neither of us mentioned it to the other, though we noticed it. We live in a noisy area and, although it was a little out of the ordinary, we did not know what it was. We went to the store to get a couple of things. On our way back to the apartment, we noticed an emergency vehicle trying to get through the congested traffic. Again, this was nothing particularly unusual.

A short time later we found out that something out of the ordinary was going on after all. A U.S. embassy friend called us and told us that a bomb had exploded near a convention center and the central bus station, about two miles from where we live. It hit two buses and injured about 20 people. One of the buses is thought to be #74, one of the buses we frequently ride. Also, we see God's protective hand at work since we'd planned to go the Israel Museum this afternoon to purchase some items for Bill's mom and also go to the post office in Talpiot. The museum is rather near the site of the explosion. Bill kept putting off running the errands, doing things here at the school instead. This reminds me of my Purim post, in which we discovered that God's hand is not always visible. But. later, we can clearly see how He has been at work. We cannot say with certainty, but perhaps we would not have been in or near Bus #74. Either way, we are enormously grateful that God kept us here in a safe place during the explosion.

Now, the streets here are quieter than usual. Some shops are closed and traffic is light. People are no doubt staying at home, as we have been advised to do.

Purim

  

This morning, the streets are fairly quiet. Yesterday evening was filled with the sights and sounds of the celebration of Purim. This is the holiday that commemorates the Jewish deliverance by the hand of Queen Esther. We were outside for a little while last evening, but we came back inside when things started getting a little too wild and crazy to suit us. Many people were adorned with costumes, some of them posing as Esther, Mordecai, or Haman. It is a bit like Halloween without all the diabolical undercurrents. With the exception of a witch or two and a few skeletons, most of the costumes were pirates, princesses, and the like.

One book I read quotes the Talmud as saying that during Purim Jews should "drink so much that you can't tell the difference between Mordecai and Haman." Apparently, Talmudic writers were trying to emulate the banquets of wine that Esther prepared, although Scripture does not indicate that anyone present at those banquets were intoxicated (Esther 5:6; 7:2). To their credit, however, while we did see more alcohol than usual, some people were drinking non-alcoholic beverages or nothing at all.

People were yelling, singing, and dancing. Every few minutes, someone would throw a firecracker into the crowd and a few girls would scream, adding to the festive chaos. All of the buildings here are made from Jerusalem stone, and since they are so close together, they capture and magnify sound. It was a loud night and we could hear the sounds of celebration into the early morning hours.

This holiday is called Purim because Haman cast lots, or Pur, to determine the date when the Jews should be destroyed (Esther 3:7, 13; 9:28).

A Jewish friend told us that Purim is celebrated one month before Pesach, or Passover. He said that this is significant. In Passover we see the undeniable, magnificent hand of God working openly. It was a spectacular deliverance. In Purim, we see God working behind the scenes to deliver His people. The lesson is that, even if God's hand is not clearly visible, we can be assured He has not forgotten us and is still working. Although God's name is never mentioned in the book of Esther, He is there nonetheless.