After having had on our breakfast-table fish from Galilee, like that which Christ gave broiled to His disciples after their night of "poor luck" in fishing. I spread my overcoat on the snow-white pebbles of the lake and began to read the Poems of the Evangelists, descriptive of what took place on or near these waters, more sacred than any that ever gleamed in any other bowl, whether of Divine or human sculpturing. A sail boat glides near, but as there is no wind, the sails down and the oars propel the prow through the shattering crystal. Again Christ walks this lake, and He comes to me in a feeling of peace which He only can breathe into the soul. We can understand now how high winds can lift this lake. The canons, as they are called in Colorado, or the wadys as they are called in Palestine, are invitations to hurricanes. Last night, from a calm that moved not a tassel of our tent, in one minute there rushed by a wind that tested every rope and pole of our encampment to the utmost, and blew away from the front of our tent, not only the coals of our bonfire, but the ashes and the wood, and caused a fright of some of our group which called the dragoman, who prophesied that in twenty minutes it would be over, and sure enough in about that time there was not enough atmospheric motion to flutter a feather.
We are camped near the village of Tiberias. Many of the Lives of Christ say that Christ was never here. The Bible does not say He ever visited Tiberias, but it says: "Jesus went about all the cities and villages," and I have no doubt He visited this city, which was second to none in importance. Some authors say Christ did not come to Tiberias because it was populated by a very degraded people. This was the very reason that would have brought Him here; the worse the disease, the more need of a doctor. Yes, Christ was here! What more can God in His goodness grant me in the way of natural scenery and religious opportunity than that I should see this lake? I have walked its banks, read the Book of Luke in its presence, worshiped a whole Sabbath at its crystal altars, bathed in its depths, letting the sacred floods roll over me, and to-morrow will sail on its surface. When I first thought of coming to Palestine, I went to the Tourist Company in New York and, unrolling the map of the Holy Land, I took my pencil and made on it two circles, saying, "I may not have time to see all the Holy Land, but those two regions I must see." One circle was swept around Jerusalem and its approximates, the other circle around Lake Galilee and its approximates. I thank God that I have compassed what I came for and much beside.
David Meeting Abigail by Peter Paul Rubens. |
Journal Entries:
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. Entry 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37.
No comments:
Post a Comment