Monday was my last day of retreat before returning to Beer Sheva with Father Roman later that evening. In the morning I took roughly two hours to walk over the bone-dry dust-and-rock back road to the site of Samson’s tomb (Judges 13). Known as the Sorek valley, this whole area featured prominently in many Biblical narratives, and King David had lots of adventures here, too. I met a Jewish couple who were hanging out there and chatted with them via their rough English and my rougher Hebrew about the state of things in Israel these days. They had some interesting perspectives, and I’ll think on them further.
A generous lunch back at the monastery, then quiet rest, then worship with everyone (led by Father Roman in the late afternoon), and we were in the car headed back home to Beer Sheva. Thank you, Sisters!
It took a few days to reorient back to the desert and back to the heat. For frugal but noticeable relief we set the air conditioners here to around 27 degrees, or a little less if you want to be more mentally functional. One hour of work outside seems to take a lot out of me—the heat just saps your life! Again, a few extra naps needed and pace moderated. The early part of the week was spent doing a little cleanup outside and a little bit of graphics work for clients back home. Balance. Father Roman is very understanding about my situation, and is happy to help adjust my schedule so I can fit in all my things without burning out.
Thursday was my big day out, and Father Roman had schemed quite an adventurous day for us. We got up early and I headed to the kitchen to make us… what? I wasn’t quite sure what the sandwich situation was, or even the last time I had made a sandwich. We had pitas. There was a can of chickpeas in water, so I just blindly grabbed it. Could I could make them edible? In the kitchen I’m more like a caveman than a cook.
True to form, I crush them with a fork. Okay. Add some olive oil (from Gethsemane, of course) to soften up the mash. Open the spice jars and see if something fits. When one realizes that cumin is a key fragrance of the middle east, you’re off and running. Add dill and maybe some rosemary. Paprika? Stuff the mash into pitas with some chopped veggies and you’re there: lazy falafel! I had a new culinary best friend.
Into the car and off to our first stop, the mountaintop citadel of Masada on the edge of the Dead Sea. This was built by Herod shortly before the birth of Jesus, then used by various Jewish groups (one famous revolt), then Christian monks, then more Jews, then more pilgrims of every sort. I spent some time in the wicked heat walking through ancient storage rooms, baths, dining rooms, and a Byzantine church with sections of its mosaic floor still intact. There was an ancient synagogue and right next to it a modern little room with an old gentleman quietly writing out a Torah scroll.
I hopped in the cable car for the return descent down to the tourist reception, then endured the 25-degree drop in interior temperature as the air-conditioned wave of hospitality nearly bowled me over. Back on the road and on to our next stop: Qumran. Yeah, that Qumran! Father Roman had seen these places many times, so he stayed behind and got a bit of work done as I went on ahead to walk the grounds and journey up a bit of mountain trail. An amazing place, so desolate. Yet somehow the ancient brothers there were able to get loads of fresh water for the nearly endless ritual bathing they practiced. Someone must have been exceedingly clever to pull off actual streams in the desert.
The walk through the surrounding hills was also insightful. There are two kinds of rock here: a gray one worn by the elements to be smooth as silk, alongside a red one worn to be as sharp as razors. On the ground is bits of these rocks and a dust as fine as baby powder. Wear boots here, for sure, and maybe gloves, too. The wilderness heat is intense; at times you nearly hear its voice talking to you. The view of the dead sea, and the Jordanian mountains beyond it, is stellar.
Onward to visit nearby Ein Gedi kibbutz to talk with a friend of Father Roman, a Jewish rabbi who recently did some extra study on the Biblical character of King Saul—was he really as bad as they say? Father Roman wanted to discuss aspects of this character, and we thus enjoyed an air-conditioned cafe and insightful conversation. Later in the afternoon the 84-year-old rabbi took us on a brief walking tour of some of the exotic botanical features of the kibbutz, showing and describing plenty of interesting plants that have done well in the intense micro-climate that is uniquely Ein Gedi.
Next stop: Dead Sea! We parked close to the beach, changed into swimwear and went for a quick dip. Well, it’s hard to dip into the Dead Sea, there’s much more bobbing really. It was pretty neat. I expected a kind of hot-spring-smelly experience, but the Sea had quite a nice fragrance to it. I also can’t “float” in regular water to save my life, and so for the first time in my life I enjoyed effortless levitation! Shower off the salt and back in the car for the desert drive home of a little more than an hour. I slept well that night!
The weekend was simple. Clean the parish house, get the chapel ready for worship (Indian Mass on Friday, English Mass Saturday, Hebrew Mass Sunday) and cook a little bit just to top up the fridge. On Sunday Father Piotr made his occasional visit to the parish to check in with Father Roman, help lead the worship and visit with all of us. Father Piotr had been the parish priest in Beer Sheva for eight years before being promoted to regional priest two years ago, so he had lots of fond memories of his time here, and still knew many of the parishioners by name.
Thankful for: the simplicity of the desert. Its demands on you are simple: find water, find shade. After that you’re golden.
Pray for: me here in Israel. I consider coming back in the future to spend more time in Beersheva specifically and with the Hebrew-speaking Catholic community in general.
Highlight: “lazy falafel” began a trend in the house. “Lazy teriyaki beef steak” followed (boil beef in water for a few hours, drain and pull it, then smother it in sauce—done!). And Nick bested us all with “lazy pain chocolat”: melt a chocolate bar in a pita with the toaster. You’re welcome.
Photos: 1) the little hilltop village of Deir Rafat, with monastery just over the other side. All the brown vegetation in the photo equals super nasty thorn and thistle plants reaching up to tickle your armpits. You just don’t go in there; 2) A view of the Dead Sea and foreground plains from one of the military lookouts at Masada. At least they had shade; 3) The Dead Sea and Jordan in the background at the top, the Qumran village (and tourist visitor centre) middle-left, and roasting rock shards at my feet.
