Haifa, Jan. 20.—Perhaps the most interesting spot in the world to those
deeply under the influence of that charm which association lends to
places hallowed by the ministrations of the Founder of Christianity is
to be found in a desert, rock-strewn promontory on the northwest shore
of the Lake of Tiberias; for among these piles of hewn blocks of black
basalt still remain the ruins of a great synagogue, within whose walls,
the foundations of which may still be distinctly traced, were collected
the multitudes who flocked to hear the teaching of Christ. While modern
tourists resort in crowds to Jerusalem to visit the mythical sites which
are supposed, upon the vague basis of ecclesiastical tradition, to be
identified with episodes in the life of the great Teacher, scarcely one
ever finds his way to this remote locality lying just out of the beaten
track along which Cook leads his herds of sightseers; and yet it is
probable that the greater part of that period in the life of Christ, the
record of which is contained in the four Gospels, was spent at
Capernaum, which the most careful investigation, by the highest
authorities in such matters, has identified with these ruins of Tell
Hum, amid which I was just now standing. Here it was that Christ cured
Peter's mother-in-law, restored the paralytic, called Matthew, cured the
centurion's servant, raised Jairus's daughter from the dead, and
obtained the tribute of money from the mouth of a fish. It was here that
he spoke the parables of the sower, the tares, the treasure hid in the
field, the merchant seeking goodly pearls, and the net cast into the
sea. Sir Charles Wilson, whose researches on this spot led him to
identify it as being the site of the city of Capernaum, believes this
synagogue was, “without doubt, the one built by the Roman centurion
(Luke vii. 51), and, therefore, one of the most sacred spots on earth.”
It was in this building, if that be the case, that the well-known
discourse contained in the sixth chapter of John was delivered; and it
was not without a strange feeling, says the same explorer, “that, on
turning over a large block, we found the pot of manna engraved on its
face, and remembered the words: “I am that bread of life. Your fathers
did eat manna in the wilderness and are dead.”
This very synagogue was probably the scene of the healing of the
demoniac and of the delivery of many of those divine lectures on faith,
humility, brotherly love, and formality in worship, as we read at the
end of one of them: “These things said he in the synagogue as he taught
in Capernaum.” Perhaps it was in the little creek, where a boat was now
riding at anchor only a few feet from the shore, that Christ taught the
people from the boat so as to avoid the crush of the multitude. It was
doubtless in one of these inlets that James, the son of Zebedee, and
John, his brother, were mending their nets when, being called, they left
their ship and followed him; and it was on this coast that Andrew and
Peter were casting their nets when they were summoned to become fishers
of men. It has a higher claim to be called the birthplace of the
religion which has since revolutionized the world than any other spot
upon it; and it is a matter of some surprise to me that neither the
Greek nor the Roman Catholic churches, in their zeal to discover holy
places, which may serve as levers for political intrigue, have yet
thought of occupying this one, which would seem the holiest of all.
Perhaps it would lead to a comparison between their practice and the
teaching of which it was the scene, which might give rise to some
inconvenient reflections.
Apart from their associations the ruins themselves are not particularly
striking. They cover an area of about half a mile in length by a quarter
in breadth, and consist chiefly of the black blocks of basaltic stone
which formed the walls of the houses. The traces of the synagogue,
however, remain sufficiently for the building to be planned. Built of
white limestone blocks, it must have formed a conspicuous object amid
the black basalt by which it was surrounded. It was seventy-five feet by
fifty-seven, built north and south, and at the southern end had three
entrances. Many of the columns and capitals have been carried away, but
enough still remain to convey some idea of the general plan and aspect
of the building. The capitals are of the Corinthian order, and there
were epistylia that rested upon the columns and probably supported
wooden rafters. There are also remains of a heavy cornice and frieze.
The exterior was probably decorated with attached pilasters.
Two miles north of Capernaum are the ruins of Chorazin. There is no
difficulty in identifying the site, which may be determined partly by
the itineraries of early travellers, and partly by the similarity of the
modern name, Kirazeh. The path to them leads up the sloping, rocky
hillside, but, owing to the peculiar character of the masonry, which is
barely to be distinguished at one hundred yards from the rocks which
surround it, the extent and importance of these ruins have been
overlooked until quite recently. They cover an area as large as, if not
larger than, those of Capernaum, and are situated partly in a shallow
valley, partly on a rocky spur formed by a sharp bend in the Wady
Kirazeh, here a wild gorge eighty feet deep. From this spot there is a
beautiful view of the Lake of Tiberias to its southern end; and here,
too, are gathered the most interesting ruins—a synagogue with Corinthian
capitals and niche-heads cut, not, as at Capernaum, in limestone, but in
hard black basalt. The dimensions of this building are about the same as
those of the one at Capernaum, but the interior is a mass of ruins. Two
pedestals still remain _in situ_, and a portion of the wall. The
characteristic of this synagogue is an excess of ornamentation of rather
a debased kind. The niches are most elaborate, and remain as sharp as
when they were cut in the hard material used. The mouldings of the
door-posts are similar to those used in other synagogues, and there are
many stones cut with deep mouldings and pieces of classical cornices
strewn among the ruins.
Many of the dwelling-houses were until recently in a tolerably perfect
state, the walls being in some cases six feet high; and, as they are
probably of the same class of houses as that in which Christ dwelt, a
description of them may be interesting. They are generally square, of
different sizes, the largest, however, not over thirty feet square, and
have one or two columns down the centre to support the roof, which
appears to have been flat, as in the modern Arab houses. The walls are
about two feet thick, built of masonry or of loose blocks of basalt.
There is a low doorway in the centre of one of the walls, and each house
has windows twelve inches high and six wide. In one or two cases the
house was divided into four chambers.
We now pushed on to the point where the Jordan enters the lake, distant
about three miles, for it was only on the other side of that river that
my exploration of new ground might be said to commence. I had been
attracted hither by rumours which had reached me of a remarkable stone
which was said to be in the possession of an Arab, on which were
pictorial representations and inscriptions. As my information on the
point was somewhat vague, I rode up to a Bedouin encampment, near which
was also a collection of mud hovels occupied by fellaheen, which were
situated on the west bank of the river. They were naturally so
suspicious that I pretended at first to be merely anxious to have a
guide to show me the ford, but it was not until the old sheik himself
appeared that I could find any one willing to offer me the slightest
assistance. They gazed at me with open-mouthed stupidity, real or
assumed, and the sight of silver scarcely moved their stolidity. Far
different was it with the eagle-eyed old gentleman who, having seen the
group assembled round us, strode up from the Bedouin encampment, and at
once entered into the spirit of the thing. Not only was he prepared to
show me the ford, but, for adequate consideration, would take me to all
the ruins in the neighbourhood, with the positions of which he professed
an accurate acquaintance, if I would only wait until he went for his
horse. This I was only too happy to do, and in a few minutes he galloped
up with his _kufiha_ and _abbaye_ fluttering in the wind, a genuine son
of the desert. We forded the Jordan by following the little bar which it
makes on entering the lake, the water reaching to our saddle-flaps, and,
following the shore, here a grassy plain for half a mile, reached a
large square building, charmingly situated near some trees on the margin
of the water. This was the granary and storehouse of the great Arab
proprietor of the neighbourhood, the only building with any pretensions
for miles round; and it was the local agent of this man, himself a
resident in Damascus, whom I now found to be in possession of the relic
I had travelled so far to see. My disappointment may be easily conceived
when I was told that he had gone to Damascus, and would not return for a
week. My disgust, as I squatted beneath the walls of this detestable
building, making a lunch off hard-boiled eggs, and revolving burglarious
schemes of entry, all of which came to naught, may easily be imagined.
The fact that the building itself was surrounded by ruins was small
consolation, for these consisted only of large hewn blocks of black
basalt, and the foundations of houses which were clearly to be traced,
but the area they covered was not extensive, and I could not find any
indications of any public building. The name of the spot is El-Araj,
which signifies The Lame, but I was unable to identify it with any
Biblical locality.