Sunday, November 13, 2011

Stepping off the Jesus Trail

This morning we started down the path of the Jesus Trail. We first
heard about the "Jesus Trail" from an article in The Cleveland Plain Dealer about 18 months ago. The Jesus Trail was the brainchild of two young adults and entrepreneurs, who blazed trails in the upper, mid and lower portions of the Galillee. The trail we started to hike was the "Classic" Jesus trail, running from Nazareth, through Cana, and ultimately to
Capernum. The trail begins in the old city of Nazareth, and winds up
some 406 steps (yes, we counted them all) to the top of the city. From there, we are taken through the city streets and modern, more plush suburbs of Nazareth, before leading up to the actual beginning of "the trail."

When we decided to do the Jesus Trail, my mind was full of images that
I think I must have picked up in the Good Shepherd Lutheran Bible School. I had imagined walking through bucolic fields, perhaps passing some shepherds tending their flocks (okay, that's a bit of a stretch, but at least a goat farmer or two), perhaps fig and olive trees swaying in the breeze--and what we found was that the trail began at the end of town, which housed...the dump. Trash. Everywhere. Old porcelin toilets jumbled
next to a pair of child's socks, broken toys, old springs, the guts of a trashed
computer. It became clear that unincorporated Nazareth had no formal 'dump" or recycling program or any place to put trash, so these Nazarenes living on the edge of town just took their trash to the nearest empty field and pitched it.

I was shocked, saddened and disappointed. These beautiful, rocky hills were strewn with trash. The picture I had in my mind of the hills of Galilee were permanently changed. At the same time, busting up stereotypes is part of what this trip has been about.

Before coming to the Middle East, I had worried about meeting
"the other," Palestinians in particular, and realized that I had succumbed to the Western media's portrayal of Arabs and Arab culture. As I sit here writing this, I am in a Israeli Arab Christians home, who speaks fluent Arabic, Hebrew and English. She's sitting on the couch watching the news, just as I do. She just made me a fabulous dinner. Their
children are playing in the family room below; the teenage son gave me a broad smile and a warm welcome; her great grandchild is as cute a kid as I have ever seen.

The images I've had in my head have been forever changed by the reality of this experience; and truth be told, I'll take reality over the fantasy; or, the media I've been fed, any day.

Location:Nazareth, Cana

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